


Don't you have anything better to do?

by Rainbow_Sprinkles



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Compliant, Child Abuse, Disordered thinking and behavior, First POV, Fourth Wall, Gen, Genocide Route, Gets pretty dark and angsty but, I need to be okay with how this game ends and I'm still not, Mental Illness, Narrator Chara, Neutral Route, Non-Binary Chara, Non-Binary Frisk, Other, Pacifist Route, Player Reader, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Present and past tense, Retelling as Chara sees it, Save these sad children, but some second POV too, there's fluff and love and healing too, this is Undertale there is no fourth wall, what fourth wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 54,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8047069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Sprinkles/pseuds/Rainbow_Sprinkles
Summary: What do I have to say about my best friend? “*Legendary being made of every SOUL in the underground.”

  I am the worst friend. That’s the best I can come up with?
Chara knows you’re there and they aren’t happy about it.





	1. It's KILL or BE killed!

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: I cried for three-and-a-half hours after finishing my pacifist run and leaving goatson behind
> 
> SO Chara wouldn’t get the hell out of my head and I was like HERE LET ME RETURN THE FAVOR and this happened.
> 
> Please read the tags. This covers some heavy issues and sometimes gets dark.

Eyes open. Sunlight streaming down through a hole. I recognize that hole. I recognize this cavern. I recognize everything but the golden flowers I’m lying on.

What the fuck happened?

Breathe. Move. Everything is working. There is no pain. No, that isn’t right. When I fell I broke my arm. My leg hurt, too, and it hurt to breathe. When I fell, I landed face-down, not on my back. But I’m on my back.

When I fell, I barely managed to push myself up and I called for help. It came out in a wheeze and it hurt.

But it carried far enough. Asriel heard me. Asriel—

I frown. Oh. That’s right.

We died.

Something is missing. I remember, but... hm. This is odd. That’s all I’m doing. I’m just... remembering. What else should I be doing?

I try to get up. My body won’t listen. I try again.

A groan comes out of my mouth. My hand lifts, elbow bends, palm rests on my head. I’m frozen.

 _I_ didn’t do that.

This body rolls over and pushes itself to its feet. I can’t breathe, even though these lungs are working. A tiny questioning noise comes out of my mouth. Not my mouth. The head tilts back to look up, then turns to squint farther into the cave. Into the Underground. The feet start moving, only pausing to pick up a thin stick lying next to the flowers.

Shit.

I am in a body I cannot control.

Okay. I don’t like this, but I need to gather more information. I’m dead (I’m _supposed_ to be), so it makes sense that this isn’t my body.

(How long have I been dead? Why did I wake up here? If I’m undead, is Asriel still dead?)

I feel my gut clench. This host body seems to be unaware of it and continues to walk.

(This world – _ANY_ world – is not worth anything without Asriel in it)

I push the thoughts down. That is not important. The important questions are: if this is not my body, then whose is it, and can I communicate with them in some way?

I scowl. Oh, and also:

How the hell did I fuck up killing myself TWICE?!

 

* * *

 

My host runs into a flower right before the entrance to the Ruins. I pause for a moment. Try to remember if I’ve ever seen a monster that was literally just a plant. I don’t think I have.

The flower talks and I tune it out. I know someone else is in here with me, and that someone is presumably controlling this body. I should... I dunno, talk to them?

I don’t know why. I don’t even know what I want.

(I want to find out what happened to Asriel)

My surroundings, I notice, feel kind of... distant. I suppose this makes sense. Not my eyes or ears or nose, right? Why should I be seeing and hearing and smelling like they are?

I try to relax. Never been good at this. I quickly become frustrated at how bad I am at relaxing, which sends me even further from relaxed than I already am, but – I sense it.

I sense it in a way I cannot describe. Someone else, someone distinct from me.

Okay. Here they are. What do I do? Do I just... talk? Do I send feelings at them? Will they be able to pick them up?

(Why am I not feeling anything? I died and so did Asriel and what happened to _Asriel)_

A jolt of fear. It isn’t mine. My host has gone and gotten themself in a fucking _FIGHT_. The flower looks beyond pissed, it looks demonically gleeful, face like something out a nightmare (I know nightmares), and there are small white pellets completely encircling us.

I see my host’s SOUL is red. (Same color as mine is – was?)

The circle closes in and the flower laughs. All at once I’m mad, furious – _KILL IT._

My host is terrified, but I think they pick up on my fury, just as I can sense their fear. But they see no way out. There isn’t one until—

Until a fireball smashes into the creature. Instead of actually lighting it on fire, which would have been _preferable_ , it is ripped right out of the ground and goes flying with a pained cry.

We aren’t in danger anymore. I attempt to soothe my host’s fears – and receive something back, a kind of question, the way you turn your head when you think you heard something, but aren’t sure, and are waiting to hear it again—

Then she’s in front of us. My vision narrows. I try to reel back – but I can’t, it’s not my body. She is talking. I don’t hear her.

(I want to scream WHERE IS ASRIEL at her but I don’t think she’ll hear me and anyway why would I expect an answer after what I did to her husband and son and I don’t mean my daily travesty of inflicting myself upon this family’s happiness and)

My host’s head bobs and they follow her into the Ruins. They forgot about almost hearing me.

Why did I come back?

 

* * *

 

It becomes clear when Toriel gets just a little too far ahead.

(Why is she living here? Where is Asgore? Where’s—)

It’s a Froggit. A stupid little Froggit. My host is scared anyway.

For some idiotic reason, I expect the monster to recognize me and ask me why I’m here by myself. Ribbit ribbit. (Hello, Human. Are you playing a game of hide-and-seek with the prince? Oh, I won’t tell him you were here. You can even hide in that pile of leaves over there.) Ribbit.

Yeah, it’s dumb because I’m _dead_ and _this isn’t my body_ , but I’m still startled when the Froggit attacks.

FIGHT. My host does not move. Are they confused? Toriel just went over this! “*Froggit attacks you!” I say aloud, hoping to convey the urgency of the situation with my voice. FIGHT.

My host hesitates, but attacks anyway. Was that them, or me? I had the impulse, but they can barely hear me, which is a far cry from me being able to control their body.

One attack dusts the monster. Huh. It usually takes more than one attack, right? I’ve watched both Toriel and Asgore spar with Asriel to teach him how to fight with magic. I would stand to one side with whatever snack we were having that day and we’d eat it together after they were done. The worst Asriel ever had was some dust and fur flaking off a shoulder and arm and it took way more than one hit to—

The power surge is indescribable. I gasp. Oh. Oh, that felt good.

“*You won,” I say. “*Your LOVE increased.”

I barely know what it means. It just felt right to say it. This feels right. _This_ feels right.

It isn’t long before my host runs into another monster. A Whimsum, this time.

I feel my host’s fear. What, are they a little crybaby? Asriel was always a crybaby. He—

FIGHT, I think at them, to see if they’ll do it again. They hesitate, frowning. FIGHT, I urge again, more strongly.

They don’t hesitate. The feeling is just as good as before. Maybe it only feels good because I’ve been dead for so long. I don’t have anything to compare it to, but _damn_ , it feels good.

My host pauses, unmoving. I want them to keep searching for monsters.

They reach out. I can’t see them or hear them, not really. It’s something else. Some other sense.

 _Hello?_ they ask. _Is someone there?_

Yes. Yes, I’m here. I’m...

Their head cocks to one side. Puzzled.

I try again. I’m _here_. I’m in your body, in your head. I’m with you. You are doing so well, you just have to...

They move on. Maybe I have to try harder. I knew what they wanted to ask, so there has to be a way for me to reply, right?

It’s fine. I’ll get the hang of it. I don’t really care, as long as they keep gaining EXP and LOVE.

They do, but I still have this niggling feeling that... something is missing.

I shove it down. We have work to do.

 

* * *

 

LV 3. Then we can’t find anyone. Every time my host turns a corner, enters a new room, every time they expect to find someone—

“*But nobody came,” I say, rolling my eyes.

When we see Toriel again, something stirs inside me. I frown. I don’t know what that was, but it’s gone now.

She’s powerful, but my host’s hesitation faded about ten dust piles ago. That means we should be able to kill monsters more easily, right? I think I remember reading that somewhere. If monsters go up against someone who really wants to dust them, they weaken. (Or maybe Asriel told me when I—)

We could still use a proper weapon. “*Where are the knives,” I say when we walk into the kitchen. I want a _real_ one, not this little plastic thing we picked up.

My host starts a little. Oh, they heard me that time. They have been reacting to my thoughts and desires more and more frequently. Good.

They yawn abruptly. I suppose we could use some rest, especially since I don’t see any knives.

After the nap, my host wanders around the house. She’s definitely living here. I don’t care why, though I suspect the why might be interesting. I comment on the house as we move through it in an attempt to engage my host. I feel something back from them, an acknowledgement, so they definitely know I’m here.

They stop in front of a mirror in the hallway. At first, I am pleased by how similar they look to me, but then I become annoyed with the minor differences. Their skin is darker than mine. They have a thing for big sweaters, too (always easier to hide the bruises and cuts), but theirs is blue and magenta. I had a thing for green (because then I could match—)

My hair is (was?) lighter and slightly redder than my host’s. My eyes were larger. Maybe I was taller. I can’t tell.

_Are you there? Who are you?_

Who are you? I ask. You first. What’s your name?

_You’re really there, huh? I’m... Frisk. Who are you?_

I have a feeling that they can hear me now. I grin. “*It’s me, Chara.”

 

* * *

 

One hit. I was worried for nothing.

I will not worry anymore.

Toriel always was the practical one in the family. As she’s dying, she tells us she realizes that she wasn’t protecting us by keeping us here. She was protecting them. The rest of the monsters.

She could not be more right.

Her SOUL shudders, visible for a few seconds after her body dusts. The tip is pointed upward and it’s white.

It shatters. Always wondered what that looked like.

This time – the rush – the power – so good—

I reach for Frisk, just a little, to see if they are enjoying this as much as I am. They aren’t. They seem kind of confused, so I try to assuage their doubt, whispering that this is what we are for. This is our purpose. We have to stay determined.

It works. We continue.

Before we can leave, we run into the fucking flower again. I feel that surge of fury I felt when it ambushed us. FIGHT.

Frisk does not. They are not terrified anymore. Their fear has vanished, but they stay put.

The flower laughs. “You’re not really human, are you?” it asks. Its sclerae abruptly go black, fangs elongating. “No. You’re empty inside. Just like me. In fact... you’re Chara, right?”

Frisk cocks their head to one side. I am frozen, staring in shock. How. _How?!_

Frisk, I say, trying to get their attention. Fight. FIGHT, damnit! Kill it!

The flower looks pleased. “We’re still inseparable, after all these years. Listen. I have a plan to become all-powerful. Even more powerful than you and your stolen soul.”

I snarl. No way. Not happening. Even if it’s _him_.

(He’s Asriel, right? Who else would know me so well—?)

Besides, this SOUL is not mine.

Frisk does not reply (they don’t talk much – why?) so the flower – Flowey – _(Asriel?)_ – keeps speaking. “Let’s destroy everything in this wretched world. Everyone, everything in these worthless memories... Let’s turn ‘em all to dust! _That’s a wonderful idea!_ ”

He sinks back down into the ground before I can convince Frisk to say anything.

(How is that Asriel? What _happened_ to him?)

I try to think, closing my eyes. Frisk starts walking again. _Do you know him?_ they ask.

I involuntarily let out a growl. Well, I don’t, because I don’t have a body, but the impulse, the intent, is there. No, Frisk, I snap. I don’t. Don’t ever ask me about this again.

No fear, but a bit of apprehension, and finally, assent. _Fine, Chara. I won’t._

I remember being alive. I remember living with the Dreemurrs. I remember playing with Asriel and eating Toriel’s snail pies and gardening with Asgore. I liked the flowers. I _still_ like flowers, even after chewing on poisonous petals and spitting up blood and getting so weak I couldn’t move and feeling like someone was thrusting a knife _(or somethin—)_ deep inside me, over and over, and holding Asriel’s hand while he cried—

This should be upsetting, right? Maybe not. Maybe a perk of being dead means I don’t have to be upset. That would be nice.

But I don’t feel much of anything else, either. All the fear buzzing in our shared head so far has been Frisk’s. I have only felt the need to FIGHT and gain EXP and LOVE. Interesting. You’re empty inside, the flower said.

That thing can’t be Asriel. Asriel was sweet, and kind, (and so much better than me), and he would never hurt _anyone_ intentionally—

Yeah. He never could hurt anyone.

Not even to save his life.

Or mine.

...

I have absolutely no intention of sharing the power in this world.

 

* * *

 

I find that I can start to control the body. When Frisk is distracted by listening to the taller skeleton squawk about his puzzles, I take my first steps.

 _What are you doing?_ Frisk asks.

Walking, I sneer. Getting us through this faster. Don’t you want to find more monsters so we can gain more LOVE?

A pause. _Yes. How do you... know so much about this place?_

I lived here when I was alive. I died. Shouldn’t I get to control your body sometimes, in exchange for guiding you?

 _I guess._ Another pause. Thoughtful. _How did you... become like this?_

I give a little start. I don’t know the answer to that.

Irrelevant, I huff. We’re stuck with one another and we have a shared goal. We might as well see it through.

I feel Frisk’s acquiescence. They don’t feel much of anything, either. They were afraid, at first, but so was I. I’d been injured (hurt) and the fear compounded into terror when I saw Asriel, because I’d never seen anything like him, but—

But it doesn’t matter. Either Frisk is largely indifferent, content to observe what is happening around them, or they are somehow hiding the bulk of their emotions from me.

If it is the latter... well, that would bother me.

We head through the forest (vines depressing a switch – is Asriel helping us?) and pull a snowman apart piece by melting piece while he begs us to stop. We might have not bothered, but I tell Frisk that a single snow piece will heal 45 HP, and our maximum HP has been increasing along with our LOVE, so it is worth the time. Snowdin is abandoned. This is much more satisfying than it should be. I should be annoyed that all that EXP fled out of reach, but I can only smirk at the fact that we are already powerful enough to be considered a threat.

And powerful enough to threaten. I wonder if the small skeleton was bluffing. Maybe he ran with the rest of these cowards.

The other skeleton is simply too stupid to run. When Frisk knocks his head clean off, the fool blathers on about how he still believes in Frisk, that people can still change (humans never change humans are shit they all DESERVE TO DIE)

I bask in our rising LOVE. Frisk frowns.

What? I ask.

They sit down. _Nothing_.

They sit next to that pile of dust for a long time. Too long for _nothing_.

...

I try to shield my outrage from Frisk. They are hiding something from me.

That bothers me.

 

* * *

 

Frisk does not immediately dust the next monster we come across. I demand to know why and I keep demanding until we are huddled down, hidden in the grass while a tall, armored figure looks around, spear in hand.

 _She heard me_ , Frisk observes. No fear, just a statement.

So get out there and take her, I retort. Dust her, like you should have dusted that little twit back there. Come on, Frisk, FIGHT!

_I should see if I can find a better weapon first. I doubt this will be as easy as Toriel or Papyrus._

Frisk remembered the dead skeleton’s name. I’d never bothered to listen to him that closely.

It is their body. Their SOUL. For now.

Fine. Do it your way, Frisk. While you are looking for a weapon, perhaps it would be wise to raise your LOVE to prepare for the coming battle.

Frisk is emotionally unresponsive. They were so afraid at first, and their fear was so potent, the kind of thing that stretches over your eyes and nose and mouth and hooks into your lungs and prevents you from getting enough air (even with a furry monster prince reading to you or asking that you count and breathe with him because he knows better than to touch you after you wake up like this, at least until you initiate physical contact)

Are they really this indifferent now, or are they hiding something from me?

 _Perhaps_ , Frisk replies, and they keep walking once the armored figure vanishes.

 

* * *

 

When Frisk gains LOVE, their attacks become more powerful, the monsters’ defenses weaken, and more and more of them sense that we are something to be feared.

When Frisk gains LOVE, I start to feel more powerful, too, but not in a way I can identify. Maybe I could take control of the body more often, if I tried, but I am content with what Frisk is doing right now. As long as we have a shared goal, they can work towards it, though I think I might like to feel – _really_ feel – what it is like to break a monster’s SOUL (love, hope, and compassion) and let dust sift through my fingers. Maybe gaining LOVE would feel differently if this were actually my body. I still have this detached sensory experience going on.

I need Frisk to trust me, right? I can’t think of any logical reason why they need to trust me – if they could have gotten rid of me, they would have done so by now – but that conclusion feels right.

(I made Asriel trust me. He trusted me so deeply that he helped me pour poison down my throat even as he sobbed next to my bed and hated what we were doing and how can that _flower_ be Asriel)

I talk to Frisk to get them to trust me. I say, “*Woshua shuffled up,” and “*Smells like an underwater barnyard,” so that they become used to my presence and my investment in their actions. I tell Frisk about monsters when they want to check them, which they do frequently, to my bemusement. I read signs and plaques out loud, including the lore I know so well.

(None of the echo flowers say anything, so maybe I’m just talking to fill the silence. Frisk doesn’t talk much. Not even in this headspace I am occupying.)

Frisk finds the ballet shoes after another encounter with our armored pursuer and refusing to dust that loudmouthed idiot – again. I try not to bother Frisk about it, since they have been relentlessly slaughtering every other monster unlucky enough to cross our path, but then they do it _AGAIN_ , they even let the little shit walk with us—

And then they use the little shit to climb up a high ledge. _See_ , Frisk tells me pointedly. _They are still following me. Let’s use them while we can._

Okay, but I still like the idea of doing this alone. I _suppose_ that since I am more or less using Frisk, I could use someone else, too. So long as we get to dust them later.

It seems to me that Frisk is... conducting a sort of experiment. I do not know what it is or what they expect to get out of it. I don’t like this. I don’t like Frisk hiding things from me, but I can’t let them know. Not yet.

 

* * *

 

The fall into the garbage dump isn’t nearly as long as the Fall into Mount Ebott. We still pass out when we hit the gross water.

If I am screaming at Frisk before this, it is not because I am afraid, it is because they should have lunged at our pursuer and started a FIGHT while they had the chance because we need to kill and kill and KILL and let our LOVE—

And while we are lying there, stunned, waiting for our shared consciousness to fully return, our head gets mixed up a little, and

_(“It sounds like it came from over here... Oh! You’ve fallen down, haven’t you...”_

_I am simultaneously terrified and reassured. What... what is that? Does it matter? I obviously fucked up killing myself, with my luck this creature with fangs and claws will finish me off._

_“Are you okay?”_

_Wait, what? It sounds concerned. I’m getting a boy vibe, though I can’t be totally certain with the voice and my slightly blurry vision._

_He comes closer and I notice the claws are retractable. His fangs might be just slightly sharper than my canines. He is covered in poofy white fur._

_He bends down and I flinch at the touch, like I always do but—_

_“Here, get up...”_

_He helps me to my feet. I am in pain, but I can stand. He’s smiling softly, still standing close to me, but not touching._

_I can be... anyone. Anything. I can be me and he won’t know any better._

_“I’m Chara,” I force out._

_His smile widens. He isn’t menacing at all. He is actually kind of... adorable. “Chara, huh? That’s a nice name. My name is—”)_

Frisk’s body twitches in the water. I jerk away from them in our shared head, away from their thoughts and feelings. They move an arm, a leg, all their limbs. They sit up, grunting a little. Some pain, maybe some bruising, nothing serious.

That last thought was Frisk’s as much as mine. Get out of my head, I hiss at them. I want to sound more forceful, but I feel... what? Like I’m not as determined—

NO. Just considering that brings it flooding back. I am determined. Frisk is determined. We want this.

 _I’m not in your head._ Frisk is frowning. _Chara, that was your memory, right? That voice... who was that?_

No one important, I snap. Keep moving, Frisk. We have already wasted too much time. Snowdin was abandoned by the time we got there! If it hadn’t been, we could have reached our potential killing everyone there!

I am not certain this is true, but I know all this LOVE is building towards something. I don’t know exactly what, but... we are not there yet.

Frisk does not reply. They just start moving.

It occurs to me that Frisk measured the damage to their body in the exact same manner I did. That is why we had the same thought. I could only measure our injuries with our pain because I have been in much more pain, I have been hurt a lot worse. Not just from Falling into Ebott. From Before.

Maybe Frisk has too.

I instantly decide that this is not important or even worthy of discussion as Frisk plods along.

I need to get Asriel the hell out of my head. I waste far too many thoughts on him.

 

* * *

 

I work the legs, the arms, the body, I take aggressive steps towards the irritating little shit. “*In my way,” I growl before relinquishing control to Frisk. Frisk pauses for just a moment, pressing slightly against my presence. “*MONSTER KID 2 ATK 2 DEF. Looks like free EXP,” I inform them. I have been waiting for this the whole damn trip through Waterfall and I know what Frisk is going to do and I am going to _relish_ it.

Monster Kid quivers anxiously. Frisk attacks.

She jumps in and takes the hit. She’s helmet-less now, not that we could reach her head with how tall she is. Frisk gashed her from right shoulder to left hip.

Huh. She is sticking around for a lot longer than I expected. She sends Monster Kid away, which fills me with righteous indignation. Fuck. There is no way we will ever get that free EXP now.

Alright. Fine. We will probably get more EXP out of this battle, anyway.

“Heh... ‘It’s nothing...’” she says. She is smirking a little despite her feet and legs shifting, threatening to dust. “No... s-somehow, with just one hit... I’m already... already... D... damn it... Papyrus... Alphys... ASGORE...”

Who the hell is Alphys?

Frisk watches apprehensively. _No idea. Papyrus said that name once, too._

I frown, not remembering, and she keeps talking. “Just like that, I... I’ve failed you.”

She starts to dust. About time.

We should keep moving, I say, but Frisk stays in place, staring. What the hell is wrong with you?

Frisk does not reply.

Somehow, the dust coalesces. Back into a body. A solid body. Somehow, she keeps speaking. “No. My body... It feels like it’s splitting apart. Like any instant... I’ll scatter into a million pieces. But... Deep, deep in my soul, there’s a burning feeling I can’t describe... A burning feeling that WON’T let me die.”

She seems to be getting more motivated as she speaks. Should have shut her up, Frisk, I say, but there is no real force behind the thought because WHAT is happening in front of us?

“This isn’t just about monsters anymore, is it? If you get past me, you’ll... you’ll destroy them all, won’t you? Monsters... humans... everyone. Everyone’s hopes. Everyone’s dreams. Vanquished in an instant. But I WON’T let you do that. Right now, everyone in the world... I can feel their hearts beating as one.”

Frisk, I say slowly.

She looks up. Her visible sclera is black. “And we all have ONE goal.”

 _Chara_ , Frisk responds, in the precise tone, volume, and tempo with which I addressed them.

“To defeat YOU. Human. No, WHATEVER you are. For the sake of the whole world... I, UNDYNE, WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN!”

Her body keeps shifting. Then there is a light from her so bright that it temporarily blinds us. Frisk, I say again, more frantically. This should not be happening. She isn’t even a _Boss Monster_ , for fuck’s sake, she shouldn’t be able to...

Her form stabilizes, the light fades. Her armor is different. Pointier. Darker. Scarier.

For the first time since I woke up undead, I feel something like fear. Frisk stares at what is in front of them, too shocked for anything else. They have conditioned themself: one hit, _maybe_ two, the dust hits the ground with a _poof_ , we gain EXP, sometimes LOVE, I praise them—

“You’re gonna have to try a little harder than THAT,” she sneers.

She’s right. There is no dust, not anymore. “*The heroine appears,” I whisper. “*Undyne the Undying.”

Her magic causes Frisk’s SOUL to turn green. A magical shield manifests in front of them, but they can’t move.

We can’t move. Frisk tries, then asks me to try. We really. Can’t. Move.

And I – (I cannot tolerate being restrained, ever, I would get antsy if Asriel even hugged me for too long)

There is a flash, like one of her spears, from Undyne the Undying’s bad eye. The wind is howling.

Frisk’s first attack takes away a fraction of her health. I gape. Frisk seems mildly surprised.

But then I relax, smirking. While I _love_ the feel of our LOVE increasing, it was getting a little... redundant, watching Frisk dust monsters with a single hit. This will be a challenge for them.

They were right about the weapon, though.

 

* * *

 

I have to admit, when we started this FIGHT, I never believed we would actually _die_.

But Frisk’s SOUL shatters even as I am screaming that they need more killing intent so they will do more damage they need to move faster so they can dodge they need to GET OUT OF THE WAY AND LET ME DO IT—

Somehow, we both persist after the fact, but our minds get jumbled up again

_(“You cannot give up just yet... Chara! Stay determined...”)_

That is all Frisk gets. That is all I let them have. I do not want to wait for the memory to progress because my eyes opened and I saw the king at my bedside, pleading with me to stay, begging me not to die—

We end up back at the bridge. Where Undyne the Undying killed us.

But we aren’t dead. I am still in Frisk’s head. Hey, I say.

 _Hey_ , Frisk replies. _What was that? I thought we..._

We did. I don’t know what that was. But we’re back.

_Am I ready for this?_

I start a little. Frisk has actually been the one doing the killing, but... no, it is right that they are asking me this. I am the one who can sense the ATK and DEF of our opponents, I am the one who can sense how much damage they take, I am the one who brought us back.

LV 10. As utterly ridiculous as the ensemble looks, the ballet shoes and tutu are the best weapon and armor we have found.

You can do it, I assure Frisk, unsure if it’s true and not caring if it is or isn’t. Besides, if you can’t, I will just bring us back again.

Dying is no fun. That was, what, the third time for me? The first time was the buttercups and my body spewed blood from both ends while my insides rotted _(and finally matched how I—)_ and the second was when I _finally_ had magic, amazing, _powerful_ magic to match my powerful SOUL and every time I tried to use it Asriel screamed at me to stop, please stop, Chara, you can’t do this, _please_ don’t do this (and I _did_ because I remembered begging like that to absolutely no avail) and in my moment of weakness Asriel seized control and _paused to get my body_ even though I shrieked at him to leave it, just leave it it’s a useless corpse Azzy they’re _KILLING US_ —

How much LOVE will it take before I stop thinking about him?

 

* * *

 

It takes more than a few tries, but eventually Frisk does it. They kill Undyne the Undying.

She _melts_ instead of dusting immediately. I am impressed with this.

Determination. That is what allowed her to come back after that fatal blow. That is what allowed US to come back, time and time again.

Frisk pauses to just feel our LOVE increase. They enjoy it with me this time. I can feel their satisfaction, their accomplishment. They are more determined than ever.

LV 12. We keep moving.

Something is nagging at the back of my mind. It is not Asriel, for once.

If I can go back... if I can help Frisk escape death this way, why was I not able to do so for myself, after my first two deaths? (Was it because the first was planned, or)

I push the thought away, focusing on our DETERMINATION and the task at hand. Because it was irrelevant, not because it was making me uncomfortable. I don’t feel uncomfortable anymore.

(I don’t feel much of anything anymore)

 

* * *

 

Hotland is just as breath-sucking sweltering as I remember. Somehow it feels even more humid than Waterfall.

Hm. Someone put force fields up. I nudge Frisk to take the long way around. The path to the castle can’t be completely blocked off, right?

_Since when were we going to the castle?_

It is the direction in which there are more monsters, Frisk. I do not bother to keep my condescension from reaching them. Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me now.

No reply. We go into the lab. This is new. This was not here when I lived in my own body.

We are barely inside when we see a monitor displaying Frisk. Frisk moves and turns, but the monitor stays focused on them. Neither of us thinks very much of it. Of course Asgore has someone keeping watch on us. The residents of Snowdin probably went to the capital to warn everyone about us.

Then again, maybe this was someone else’s initiative. Asgore always shied away from conflict, be it an actual FIGHT or a simple argument. Always tried to avoid it, even when a confrontation was clearly the better decision.

A rectangular robot heads us off halfway through the lab. It has a male voice, but... meh.

It insults us, but I do not get angry until it tells us that this _Alphys_ has been evacuating people in response to our actions. EXP, out of our reach...

I step forward. The robot does the smart thing and runs away. I fantasize about dusting it, pissed, while Frisk explores the laboratory. We snag a packet of instant noodles but find nothing else worth taking.

Hotland turns out to be full of deactivated puzzles and oblivious monsters who somehow missed the evacuation notice. Watching Tsunderplane literally crash and burn fills me with DETERMINATION.

 

* * *

 

Frisk sticks around long enough to watch a tiny spider depart and return with a flower, which it places where its much larger friend was dusted.

I narrow my eyes.

...

I don’t like this.

 

* * *

 

The monsters at the Core are slightly more difficult to take on than I anticipated. Frisk can handle it, though. They handle it quite well, even when we are double- and triple-teamed.

LV 15. And the robot _still_ stands in our way.

It spouts off something about protecting humanity and all I can think is KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT because humanity DESERVES TO DIE, Frisk, you know that, don’t you?!

No reply. I step forward, fists clenched, stance wide, when the robot challenges me.

It’s _stupid_ , I hiss in our shared head. It actually thinks it can stop US?! HA!

 _No_ , Frisk finally responds. _He’s brave._

But he KNOWS we’re going to SLAUGHTER him!

_Perhaps. He’s willing to take that chance. He wants to protect people, even if all he does is sacrifice himself to give Alphys more time to complete the evacuation._

My brow furrows. Frisk, I don’t understand. You’re not making any sense.

_Really? We saw it with Undyne, too._

And Toriel?

A pause. _No. No, I think Toriel just... wanted us to stay. And Papyrus just wanted a friend._

That’s so fucking stupid.

 _Maybe,_ Frisk replies carefully. I feel a stab of anger. I can sense that they are hiding something from me again. _Maybe not._

I know that Frisk has been aware of my anger (I can’t feel much besides anger anymore) and killing intent. They have never felt it turned on them. I do so now. Frisk, I say in a threatening, hissing tone. You better not be going soft on me now.

I can sense their fear. Knowing that the monsters were and are scared of us gave me pleasure, but feeling Frisk’s fear of me is just as delightful.

 _No,_ they respond hurriedly. _No, Chara. Of course not._

We’re in this together, right? To the end. We aren’t there yet. No regrets.

(If I start regretting, I will never stop)

_Yes. I’m with you, Chara. We’re on the same side._

The robot undergoes a transformation much like Undyne the Undying’s. Hm. “*Mettaton NEO blocks the way,” I tell Frisk in a deadpan tone. I look over his new design. The armor actually looks similar to Undyne the Undying’s, he has wings, a cannon...

In the end, none of that matters. He literally blows up and Frisk has to quickly back off to avoid getting hit by shrapnel. Shame. It might have been amusing if they had.

Frisk pauses. I briefly wonder if they caught my thought, but I decide I do not care.

 

* * *

 

I remember this place.

“*He leaves them in the kitchen and the hallway,” I tell Frisk.

I am honestly unsure of who is controlling the body at this point. Perhaps all the LOVE has made me powerful enough that I am directly influencing our movements. Or perhaps Frisk has simply submitted to me. That would be smart of them.

Doesn’t matter. There are golden flowers all over the house. These aren’t buttercups. He probably got rid of all the buttercups after they killed me.

Asriel begins following us around, talking about plans for today, about how he woke up. Frisk listens, but I ignore him.

He is not important. No one can stand up to us now. We do not need his help.

The kitchen first. Frisk looks in the refrigerator. “*No chocolate,” I say.

Key. Den. Hallway. Asriel follows us with a sort of awkward eagerness. I’ve never actually spoken to him. Neither has Frisk.

Frisk goes into Asgore’s room. “*The entries are always the same,” I tell them.

The walk to the wardrobe. “*Nothing useful.” To the dresser. I feel a smirk tug at my mouth, but it’s gone almost immediately. “*Still has that sweater.”

Frisk goes out in the hallway and stands in front of the mirror. Logically, I know that I should appreciate the symmetry, but for some reason, I don’t.

I say it anyway. “*It’s me, Chara.”

Key. Down the hall. Ignore Asriel. Head into our old room.

We get the locket. Right where it belongs. We get the knife – a real one, not that stupid plastic thing with which we slashed Toriel to dust – about time.

Frisk wants to poke around the room. I roll my eyes and indulge them, providing the shortest explanations possible (“*My bed,” “*His bed,” “*Our clothes,” “*My drawing.”)

Frisk looks at the family photograph.

I...

*. . .

I have nothing to say.

 

* * *

 

The only time I pay attention to Asriel is when he claims to have killed himself.

Yeah, right. Asriel’s a coward. Always has been. It was what got us both killed.

He immediately validates my thoughts by explaining that he panicked during his last moments of life. His will to keep living made him realize he was able to use save points. To come back. To defy death.

Fuck, why won’t he just leave us alone? He will not shut up and Frisk keeps stopping to let him talk. Let’s go, I urge Frisk. He doesn’t have a SOUL. We will not get EXP from him. He is not worth our time. Asgore is. We may just... gain all the LOVE we need from killing Asgore.

No reply. “I never could predict YOU, Chara,” Asriel says. “When I saw you in the RUINS, I didn’t recognize you.”

That’s because this isn’t my body, idiot.

“I thought I could frighten you, then steal your SOUL.”

Unlikely, because _I_ cannot take Frisk’s SOUL. I’ve tried.

“I failed. And when I tried to load my save file... It didn’t work. Chara... your DETERMINATION! Somehow, it’s even greater than mine!”

It always has been, you fool. When we shared your body, the only reason you were able to control it again was because I LET YOU.

Asriel says something pathetic about calling for me. “It doesn’t matter now,” he continues. “I’m so tired of this, Chara. I’m tired of all these people. I’m tired of all these places. I’m tired of being a flower. Chara. There’s just one thing left I want to do. Let’s finish what we started.”

What _I_ started, you little twit. YOU quit on me. YOU were too weak.

“Let’s free everyone. Then... let’s let them see what humanity is REALLY like! That despite it all... this world is still ‘kill or be killed!’”

I agree, but does he really think I need _his_ help to accomplish that? His interference is what fucked us both last time.

He is talking again, ahead of us now, waiting for us to catch up. Frisk is listening again. “Chara... I think if you’re around... just living in the surface world doesn’t seem so bad.”

Is he SERIOUS? Rage bleeding out of me and then I _really_ feel like I am in this body, that it could be mine, like this pounding against my skull and fire in my veins and fingers _itching_ to – to crushsomethingfeelsomething _die_ , writhing and squealing in my hands, blood or dust doesn’tmatteratthispoint, squishing between my fingers. Just... just _live_ up there? He _knows_ I hate humans. I never told him why, but if he were truly loyal to me he wouldn’t need a reason. Humanity deserves to die. Anyone who is not with me is against me.

This time when he speaks I am the one who stops. Red pulses at the edges of my vision. My muscles tense, jaw set.

“Creatures like us wouldn’t hesitate to KILL each other if we got in each other’s way.”

Then get out of MY way, my friend.

Muscle relax, loose, ready to move. The pressure on my brain increases. Frisk’s pulse flutters in my ears. Asriel did often speak without first thinking it through. Idiot.

“So that’s...” Unsure now. Realizing. “So... that’s... why...”

He starts to tremble. Fear. That is fear on his face and I drink it in. “Ha... ha...” he says weakly. “What’s this... feeling? Why am I... shaking? Hey... Chara... No hard feelings about back then, right?”

Oh, Asriel. No SOUL and he’s _still_ a coward. I feel a smirk crack across my face, eyes widening, pupils blown. I take a step forward.

“H-hey, what are you doing?!” he practically yelps. “B... back off!”

Now I’m following him. He is so scared. “I... I’ve changed my mind about all this. This isn’t a good idea anymore. Y-you should go back, Chara. This place is fine the way it is.” A pause. He is clearly panicking and it is amazing. “S-s-stop making that creepy face! This isn’t funny! You’ve got a SICK sense of humor!”

Took you long enough to figure it out, Azzy. I pause to laugh – it’s a harsh, raspy sound – and when I open my eyes again, he is gone.

I have no idea what expression is on my face, but I slowly feel it slide away. _Why did you do that?_ Frisk asks.

I cannot tell why they are asking. I shrug. Because I wanted to. What I want to do next is kill the king.

A pause. _Okay_ , Frisk says quietly. _Let’s go._

They might still be hiding something from me. I do not care. If it comes down to it, I will take this body and SOUL from them.

 

* * *

 

I must admit, I am a bit surprised to find the shorter skeleton blocking our way to the king. Frisk is not.

Frisk, I ask. Why does this not surprise you?

Frisk emits puzzlement. They expected this and are confused that I did not. _We killed his brother, not to mention countless others._

Ah. That’s right. His brother was quite loud and irritating.

He gives us a chance to back down. Heedless, I step forward, despite Frisk warning, _Chara, I’m not sure about this._

Too late. We are already in a FIGHT.

“It’s a beautiful day outside,” the skeleton says. “Birds are singing, flowers are blooming...”

Why not, Frisk? I question, annoyed.

_He’s been watching us. He knows what we’re capable of._

“On days like these...”

Your point?

_Why are you so oblivious all of a sudden? My point is that he knows how strong we are, so he would only fight us if he had a death wish, or..._

“Kids like you...”

Or what, Frisk?

_Or he’s really, really strong and actually stands a chance against us._

His eye sockets go completely dark.

“Should be burning in hell.”

Flashing iris in his left eye socket. Frisk’s SOUL turns blue, gravity yanks us down – bones – pain – we jump – more bones more pain WE HAVE ALWAYS ATTACKED FIRST BEFORE THIS the bones are gone WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE—

 

* * *

 

Quickest. Death. Ever.

Sans. I will remember that.

We come back. Did you get that, Frisk? I ask. Should be the same order.

 _N...no..._ Frisk stutters. _Chara, I... I don’t know if we can do this._

We can. If we die we will come back.

 _I don’t know if we_ should _do this._

The silence in our head is deafening. I break it. Frisk. You are going to get up, walk down that corridor, and stab that jackass, got it? He is in our way. I remember his attacks. Let me help you move.

We are so close.

 

* * *

 

We are _not_ so close.

Sans. Dodges. Everything. Everyfuckingthing we throw at him misses. Not to mention how irritating KARMA is.

And his attacks are exponentially more difficult to dodge than any we have seen thus far. It is possible. Nothing is impossible for us and our LOVE.

“*The easiest enemy,” I say, rolling my eyes. “*Can only deal 1 damage.” Figures. He found a way to compensate for his weaknesses.

Even with my help, Frisk continues to die. The asshole skeleton counts our deaths, too, until he gets to ten and is too lazy to continue.

“*Can’t keep dodging forever,” I tell Frisk. “*Keep attacking.”

Dying repeatedly is fine. Sans’s raw power is surprising, but a welcome challenge. What is unnerving is that he knows.

He knows we can die and come back. He knows we can RESET and SAVE and LOAD. I wonder if he remembers. He doesn’t indicate that he remembers – in fact, he repeatedly implies that he knows our death count just from reading our _facial expressions_.

I decide this means we need to get this done as quickly as possible. I am not afraid of dying. I am not afraid of physical pain. I am not afraid of Sans.

But what he might know bothers me. The quickest and most pleasurable way to end this is to kill him.

And I WILL kill him.

 

* * *

 

Frisk is starting to lose their resolve.

_Chara, is this the only way to reach the king?_

Yes, Frisk. Even if that weren’t true, we HAVE to kill Sans.

_But... we..._

They bent to my will immediately when I frightened them. That should be a last resort, though. Frisk, I say soothingly. Frisk, you’re doing wonderfully. You get a little further each time. Keep trying. I’m behind you. I’m with you. I’m always with you.

But I don’t trust Frisk. I learned my lesson with Asriel.

 

* * *

 

“Ugh... that being said... you, uh, really like swinging that thing around, huh?”

We wouldn’t have to if he would just DIE like he’s SUPPOSED TO.

“I know you didn't answer me before, but... somewhere in there. I can feel it. There’s a glimmer of a good person inside of you. The memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing. Someone who, in another time, might have even been... a friend? C'mon, buddy. Do you remember me? Please, if you're listening... let's forget all of this, ok? Just lay down your weapon, and... Well, my job will be a lot easier.”

Frisk trembles. Is Frisk scared of Sans? I can’t tell. I may be having trouble reading Frisk, feeling their emotions. At first, everything was so potent. Their emotions were most of what I got from them because their body and everything they sensed seemed so far away.

Now I can barely tell what Frisk is feeling and I feel like their body is nearly mine. I am experiencing the world as they are.

I might have trouble with emotions, but I sense Frisk’s intent clearly.

I slam my thoughts into them. Frisk, NO! MERCY is no longer an option! We’ve come too far!

_I’m so tired, Chara. I just want to stop._

We can rest LATER. We _have_ to kill him, Frisk! We have to! There is no other choice!

_He’s giving us another choice._

I’m reeling, shocked that Frisk could be so STUPID. I’m mad, too. Something is thrumming through me. I wonder how I would go about killing Frisk, or if that is even possible.

I am not surprised, though. Asriel betrayed me in our first life. It makes sense that Frisk would betray me in my second.

You think he’ll actually spare you? Fine, I hiss. He’ll kill you, Frisk. He will wait until your guard is down and he will KILL you.

_How are you so sure?_

Because that’s what _I_ would do, Frisk.

It pops into my head before I process it. I pause. Sans is _not_ my equal. He is incapable of FIGHTing on my level. He can’t manipulate time, he said so. I can. I am more powerful. End of story.

When I pause, Frisk seizes total control and throws down the knife.

“...You're sparing me?” he asks. Frisk nods, wiping an arm across their suddenly streaming eyes. “Finally. Buddy. Pal. I know how hard it must be... to make that choice. To go back on everything you've worked up to. I want you to know... I won't let it go to waste. C'mere, pal.”

Sans lifts his arms. Frisk sniffles and approaches him. I don’t say anything. I don’t try to stop Frisk, either, even though I am leaning back. Physical contact is not my thing.

Frisk walks right into the hug. Sans pats our back once, twice, but before Frisk can burst into tears

Before I can force my way into control and dodge

Before I can slam Frisk’s fist into Sans’s sternum

Bones punch through our back, our legs, one of our arms, Frisk’s very SOUL. Frisk lets out a tiny gasp. Sans releases us and steps back, looking over our impaled, bleeding body clinically.

Frisk gurgles, then spits up blood. It’s warm, sticky, and rapidly puddling onto the floor. The pain is excruciating (still not as bad as the buttercups) but this is fine. This is a learning opportunity.

Sans looks us right in the eye. “Get dunked on.” Blunt. Unapologetic. “If we’re really friends... you won’t come back.”

All of our senses are going. It’s like having a blanket made of ice wrapped around our head. What did I tell you? I hiss at Frisk, who can’t do anything other than whimper, out loud and in their mind. From now on, _I_ call the shots.

 

* * *

 

He never lied, I realize. Sans never said anything along the lines of _let’s stop trying to kill each other_ because he obviously intended to kill us. Instead it was _lay down your weapon, and my job will be easier._

There is no more fucking around after that.

There is only my knife and Sans and I am determined to make the two meet on my terms. Frisk cries quietly in the back of our head.

Sans offers to spare us again. I try to hack his head off. Frisk took his brother’s head off. If Sans doesn’t appreciate the irony, I’ll appreciate it for him.

“Welp,” he says, “it was worth a shot. Guess you like doing things the hard way, huh?”

YES. I smirk. “*The REAL battle finally begins.”

 

* * *

 

And ends, many times, but neither of us is keeping count anymore.

I have to admit that I am enjoying this. I haven’t enjoyed... well, anything, except for gaining LOVE, since I woke up in Frisk’s body.

Anyway, I suppose this is gaining LOVE, too. It’s just taking much longer than it usually does.

Whether Frisk is aware of it or not, this is still their body. I have to go through them to control it. When Asriel absorbed my SOUL, I had control because I had the stronger SOUL. He was only able to take control because I allowed him to. Now I have no SOUL (right?), but because Frisk is not resisting, I can take control. During the instances Frisk was focused in on their body, I could not wrest control from them. Apparently it goes both ways. I am focused on killing Sans, so they cannot oust me.

 _Chara, please,_ Frisk pleads once they are coherent. _I don’t want to do this anymore. Please stop._

No. Learned my lesson. I loved Asriel and he still betrayed me. I don’t love Frisk. I don’t feel anything at all for Frisk. They are my vessel, my host, nothing more.

I am certain this is true. I still die right after they start begging. Because it distracts me, obviously.

 

* * *

 

Frisk shifts from begging to persuasion.

_We can try again, Chara. We can make friends next time! Wouldn’t that be nice?_

They aren’t very good at it. The only friend I ever had was Asriel and that feels so distant as to be nonexistent.

_We CAN do better. Papyrus believed in us._

“*Sans is starting to look really tired,” I say in response.

 

* * *

 

I know I’m pushing him to the edge when Sans starts talking about his special attack. I keep pushing. I want to see it.

There is nothing to see.

It’s brilliant. It’s impassable. It’s fucking _infuriating._

This entire FIGHT, he been hell-bent on breaking every rule he can. Dodging, KARMA, and now THIS.

“You’ll get bored here.” It sounds like he’s reassuring himself. “If you haven’t gotten bored already, I mean. And then, you’ll finally quit.”

Highly unlikely. I don’t quit. Every time I have tried to quit I failed. Every time I tried to kill myself I ended up living. I don’t quit. I _can’t_ quit. I am literally incapable of quitting.

“I know your type. You’re, uh, very determined, aren’t you? You’ll never give up, even if there’s, uh... absolutely NO benefit to persevering whatsoever. If I can make that clear, no matter what, you’ll just keep going. Not out of any desire for good or evil... but just because you think you can. And because you ‘can’... you ‘have to.’”

That’s more like it. Nothing is impossible for me. Not with all this LOVE.

“But now, you’ve reached the end. There is nothing left for you now. So, uh, in my personal opinion... the most ‘determined’ thing you can do here? Is to, uh, completely give up, and...” he pauses to yawn, “do literally anything else.”

He thought he was going to be able to outlast _me_? Ha.

I wait, perfectly still, staring at him. He stares back. The grin is strained, but has not slipped throughout the entire FIGHT.

I should have mocked him about his brother. Maybe I could have driven him to anger and carelessness.

He is falling asleep. No. I doubt he has the energy to be angry.

Fully asleep now. If he can break the rules, I can too.

Somehow, he wakes up and dodges and this is an outrage and I need to CUT HIM need to slash him hack him maim him KILL HIM—

He doesn’t dust immediately. But he can’t dodge. I decide to take what I can get.

No dust, no LOVE. I stare at him, waiting for it to happen.

Sans smiles and stands. This is impressive. I do not know whether I am more impressed with his delay of death or with Undyne the Undying’s total refusal of death. She kept fighting after a fatal hit, but our LV was much lower then.

He wastes his last words on his dead brother.

Our LOVE increases. LV 20. This. This is it. This is my purpose.

I approach the throne room.

 

* * *

 

“*It’s as comfortable as it looks,” I say.

But nobody came.

 

* * *

 

His back is to me.

“Curious,” he says. “I’ve never seen a plant... cry before.”

Really, Asriel?

Asgore turns around. No recognition. “You must be the one that flower just warned me about,” he says pleasantly. “Howdy! Erm... what kind of monster are you...? Sorry, I cannot tell. Well, we can always—”

I am done waiting for this pointless, one-sided conversation to end. I initiate the FIGHT.

He does not draw a weapon, does not prepare himself in any way. “Now, now,” he says, still friendly, trying to placate me. “There’s no need to fight.”

FIGHTing is all I am. It is my purpose. There is only the FIGHT and my rising LOVE.

“Why not settle this over a nice cup of tea?” he suggests.

Huh. No.

One hit takes him down and depletes his HP. He actually looks shocked. “Why... you...”

He is promptly encircled by small white pellets. They close in. He dusts and his SOUL floats there, shuddering, until it, too, is surrounded and destroyed.

Asriel pops up before the pieces of his father’s SOUL can properly dissipate. “See? I never betrayed you!” His voice is high-pitched, nervous, anxious, something. His smile is tremulous. “It was all a trick, see? I was waiting to kill him for you!”

Wrong thing to say, Asriel. I find myself doubting that I would have gained more LOVE from killing Asgore, but I would have liked to know for sure.

The flower’s face changes. To Asriel’s. “After all it’s me your best friend!” Talking so fast. I take a step forward. Another. “I’m helpful, I can be useful to you I promise I won’t get in your way—”

Another step. He is shaking. Briefly, I am struck with the urge to know what I look like right now, but it passes.

“I can help...”

My left hand grips the knife. Comfortable. Like it belongs there.

“I can...”

He is not a monster. Not a human. How will I know when he is dead? No dust. No blood. I should probably just slash him apart until there is nothing left. That will kill anything, right?

“I can...”

Asriel looks at the knife and starts his childish crybaby bullshit. “Please don’t kill me,” he begs.

He said he couldn’t, but Asriel always could predict me.

 

* * *

 

It is... perfect.

But I am not done yet. There is nothing left for us here.

We have the power.

“Let us erase this pointless world, and move on to the next,” I say.

Refusal. What I expected. It does not matter.

“No...?” My voice is calm. “Hm... How curious. You must have misunderstood.” Eyes wide open. No one is safe from me now. Not even YOU. And anyway...

SINCE WHEN WERE YOU THE ONE IN CONTROL?


	2. I'll go get the flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this one. Read the tags and proceed with caution.

You come back. So does Frisk.

I comment on it.

You do not leave. Frisk’s SOUL is bright red, vibrant, unquestionably alive.

Still theirs. Even after all this.

Not for long.

...

It was you the entire time, was it not?

If I could not take Frisk’s SOUL from _Frisk_...

“Perhaps.” I speak slowly, just so I can watch you both hang on my every word. “We can reach a compromise. You still have something I want. Give it to me. And I will bring this world back.”

There is no hesitation.

“Then it is agreed. You will give me your SOUL.”

Still no hesitation.

...

Perhaps Frisk expected this all along.

I incline my head towards them. “Then, it is done.”

But what, exactly, were you expecting?

 

* * *

 

Eyes open. Sunlight streaming down through a hole. I recognize that hole. I recognize this cavern. I recognize everything but the golden flowers I’m lying on.

What the fuck happened?

Breathe. Move. Everything is working. There is no pain. No, that isn’t right. When I Fell I broke my arm. My leg hurt, too, and it hurt to breathe. When I Fell, I landed face-down, not on my back. But I’m on my back.

When I Fell, I barely managed to push myself up and I called for help. It came out in a wheeze and it hurt.

But it carried far enough. Asriel heard me. Asriel—

I frown, then gasp. The realization slams into me.

We died.

No. No no no no no that can’t be right, I’m not dead I’m alive so Azzy has to be alive too, where is he I need to find him—

I groan and lift a hand to my head, except I don’t do that. I roll over, get up. I don’t do that either.

I cannot control this body. My heart soars. It was like that with Asriel. Only one of us could be fully in control at a time. Does that mean this is Asriel? Why can’t I tell, where is he, how do I communicate with him—

A distinctly human hand reaches down to pick up a stick off the ground. Oh. Not Asriel.

What do I do? Should I try to talk? I’ve never liked humans, especially adults, but based on how tall this body is, I think it belongs to a child.

I decide to wait. The only direction this other human child can go is towards the Ruins. Asriel clearly isn’t here. No one is here. Watch and wait, even though the idea that I might not be able to run or defend myself because _this isn’t my body_ makes me nervous.

 

* * *

 

Something about the flower is familiar. An itch at the back of my brain. I want to tear my scalp off and break my skull open to scratch it.

When it tries to kill this human, another memory of having my life threatened slams into me so hard I can’t breathe

_(“Tell anyone about this and—”)_

from Before and

I try really really hard to focus on the lethal plant in front of us. I prefer this impending death to whatever my self-destructive brain wants to churn out. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’tthinkaboutit—

When the fireball hits the flower and sends it flying, I think ASRIEL. It’s not. It’s Toriel.

I try to swallow the panic as this human follows her into the Ruins. She... hasn’t aged at all.

If she hasn’t aged... then means Asriel is dead.

I can’t hold back then. I start sobbing.

Asriel. What have I done?

There is a whisper, something barely there.

_Hello? Is anyone there?_

...

But nobody came.

 

* * *

 

Even after I calm down, I feel like I can barely look at people, let alone be near them, let alone touch them, so I grow very, very agitated with the way this body seems to be attracting monster company.

I know they are practically harmless, but I just want to be left ALONE. And it’s impossible because this body’s owner keeps trying to reach out to me. They are hesitant, most times. Comfortable with Toriel. Maybe... maybe I shouldn’t expect Asriel to be around, but why is she here? Where’s Asgore?

When Toriel leaves us alone, this body’s owner becomes anxious. I still won’t communicate with them. This is justified when another memory

_(“Come here, you little—”)_

squeezes my brain so hard I cry out. Nonono, have to bury it, have to shove it down, don’t want to scare Azzy – whoever this is—

I’m trembling. They’re trembling. We are both shaking and there is a pile of dust in front of us. When did that happen? They were sparing monsters, were talking to them, learning about them... that wasn’t my fault, was it?

Have to calm myself down. This is just like after I Fell. My freaking out always distressed everyone else. At first I thought I was being too loud, taking up too much space, but they were actually concerned about me. Only Toriel had any idea of what to do. Asgore was clueless, almost always reacting to emotional disturbances (and a _lot_ of other events, frankly) by offering tea. The first time I freaked, Asriel tried to hug me, which only made it worse because sometimes touch just _burns_ me, makes me want to crawl out of my skin and hide.

My chest constricts when I hear Toriel talk about Asgore as if he is something distant. Holy shit... he wouldn’t, would he? When I (we) was alive, he might have ironically been the gentlest monster in the Underground. When we took trips through the Underground (“Part of our royal duties, Chara,” he said) we would take _forever_ because Asgore would want to stop and talk with _everyone_. It was never a duty to him, it was something he genuinely wanted to do.

Killing children sounds entirely out of character for him, but it would explain why Toriel is here.

I kind of want to stay. To let Toriel coddle us. At least for a little while.

This body has other ideas. They refuse to turn back, even when warned. “Prove to me that you are strong enough to survive,” Toriel says.

As soon as she initiates the FIGHT, I see it: I see her injured,

dying, dusting,

white SOUL wobbling in the air before bursting apart

and this body hits the floor amidst fireballs. Toriel’s attack ends. She watches us without looking directly at us.

I am stunned. I think my head-roommate is, too. What the hell was that?

 

* * *

 

It continues even after we leave the Ruins. We blink and every monster we run into is a pile of dust. Frisk flees from most of them. When they can’t, my gut clenches and my skin bursts into a sweat and I _can’t_ , I _can’t_ feel cornered and—

Usually our premonition of dust comes true for whoever won’t let us go.

Frisk. They never told me their name. It just kind of... came to me. I don’t even know if that’s right, but it feels right.

They don’t want to put up with these skeletons and their puzzles. The skeletons aren’t... they have not tried to FIGHT us, or... they really haven’t done anything threatening, but one is so LOUD and the other lights a bone-deep terror in me for absolutely no reason and I just want to be left ALONE.

I know where Frisk is, I think, in our shared head. I’m not sure, and it is going to remain that way, because being sure would require I try to communicate with them, and I just can’t, not when I keep remembering things from Before and – and I just – I just can’t.

Snowdin is bustling and everyone is friendly. I expected to find it quiet, for some reason.

One of the skeletons – Papyrus – heads us off when we attempt to enter Waterfall. He just _won’t stop_. He’s loud and constantly gesticulating and has no perception of personal space, even during a FIGHT, and

and we see him dust too, but not all at once, and _shit_

Frisk attacks, but it barely gets him to shut up for a second, it barely gets him to back off, he even seems to be having an excellent time, and damnit I need some quiet in this head, I need to just stop and shut off all my (not my) senses and sit here and struggle with just _being_ for a little bit, and Asriel always understood when I needed to do that, Asriel was always willing to leave me alone if that was what I needed, and—

Papyrus ends up dusted. Frisk actually sits down and cries after it happens. It is their senses, their body, but my ears feel like they are ringing.

I wonder if this was intentional. I wonder if Frisk meant to kill Papyrus.

I don’t ask.

...

It’s quiet.

 

* * *

 

Another one. A feeling, this time, not a voice. Rough hands in my hair, a yank on my arm, a sharp popping noise—

I miss what happens through most of Waterfall because of my ensuing panic. When I come back, we are now at LV 5.

Maybe I am upsetting Frisk. Maybe they are more likely to react violently to monster encounters when one of my memories sinks its teeth into me and won’t let go.

I’m sorry, I think in their general direction before I catch myself.

They stop and whip around, then look rapidly from side-to-side. Turn forward, glance back over their shoulder again. Fearful.

It comes to me like a breeze: _H-hello? Is... is anyone there?_

But nobody came.

Frisk shivers and scurries onward.

 

* * *

 

Undyne is undeniably terrifying, but at least she is direct. She isn’t going to pretend to care about us and then turn around and hurt us. She is upfront with her murderous intentions.

Frisk runs from her the first chance they get. She collapses just inside of Hotland and they keep running. I don’t know where they are going. I don’t know if I want to know. All I want is to carve some of these memories out of my brain.

Alphys and Mettaton harass us through Hotland and into the Core. Well, Alphys is trying to help us, but... I just want to be left _alone_. Is that really too much to ask?

 

* * *

 

Have we died?

I’m not... sure. We might have died in the forest. We might have died in Waterfall. Undyne might have killed us.

Should I ask Frisk? No. No, my head is still too shaky. _(“Stop crying. You’ll be fine—”)_

Nonono, not fine, not fine, I can’t – shit – I need—

Frisk limps into the elevator. They aren’t injured. My mind is impacting their body more than I anticipated, not that I could have ever anticipated this.

They can’t see, can they? I don’t want them to see. I can’t let anyone see, I never let anyone see. I never even told Asriel about all my shit. Telling him that would have scarred him, devastated him, and he was just so innocently optimistic, and yeah, a _lot_ naïve, and I couldn’t do that to him.

I don’t want to be here, but I don’t really want to be anywhere. I just want to go to sleep.

I only wake up when the other skeleton appears before us. Sans. I am still terrified of him, but I have a reason now. We killed his brother. There is no point in differentiating myself from Frisk. I must be the reason for Frisk’s LOVE. They only ever lashed out when I couldn’t stop remembering.

All I can hear is Frisk’s kicked-up heartbeat in our ears. Frisk has taken a few steps back from Sans. We are LV 11. Are they afraid, too? They won’t even look at him directly, their gaze just flicks from his slipper-clad feet to the tiled floor and back again. They keep shaking their head the whole time he talks, the movement barely there.

“Well, that’s your viewpoint,” Sans says. “I won’t judge you for it.” Abruptly the lights go out of his eyes. Nothing else changes, he is still smiling, but he suddenly looks ten times as menacing. “You dirty brother killer.”

Frisk winces, eyes closing briefly, but when they look directly at him, he is gone. I freeze, then break down again, sobbing, totally unable to maintain a shred of composure against that.

Sans is right. He is more right than he knows.

 

* * *

 

I decide to pull away. I do not pay attention to the FIGHT between Frisk and the king. I do not know what happens after that.

I want it to end. It’s going to end soon, right? I can’t keep doing this.

Wait. I haven’t done this before, right? What about Frisk? Why did Frisk seem so familiar?

None of this feels right. I feel like we should have done something differently. Like we should do something differently. Like that option is available.

It is, isn’t it? Didn’t we die earlier?

I don’t know. I’m so tired.

 

* * *

 

When I woke up, I did not move. I wanted to believe that this was a mistake, that I was supposed to be dead, because I was SUPPOSED to be dead. Sure, I hadn’t intended to throw myself down that hole – at least, not yet. I had moved closer to the edge to check its depth so I could be sure the fall would kill me. I’d tripped, but as I was falling, I thought well, shit. I guess this works.

This, though, this WAKING UP, did not work and I did not like it. I was pretty sure I was injured. I mean, I _knew_ I was injured, but I thought the fall had injured me, too.

So. This was happening. I didn’t know how long it would take for me to starve to death. Or would I die of dehydration first? Shit. Should have thought this through. Why hadn’t I thought this through?

Because anything had to be better. Anything. Vanishing on a haunted mountain had sounded better than staying. Even dying had sounded better. Hell, dying here _still_ sounded better than going back. So, what, did I just lie here and wait?

No. No. No more waiting. No more passively taking it. I had to try something, so I tried to move.

White-hot pain lanced up my arm and ow ow OW. Fuck. I knew broken bones, and THAT was broken. Ugh.

Right arm was fine. Both legs were fine. Well, absolutely everything was sore, but what could I expect, falling from _that_ height?

I could have expected death, but that was about it. I didn’t feel like I had the right to expect anything else, but here I was.

Alright. I tried to prop myself up on my right elbow, inhaling deeply—

Ouch nope nope nope. Not happening. I curled in on myself, taking short, shallow breaths. Broken rib? Ribs? Maybe. I couldn’t be sure. Almost all of my breaks had been arms and hands and fingers. A couple of dislocated joints, too – those might have been worse than the breaks.

Okay. Slowly. I lifted my head, carefully inhaled, and called for help. It came out half-wheezing, almost no volume.

I waited about thirty seconds. Tried again. This time, I heard something – someone? – moving. Moving towards me. I tried to right my head and felt like I was sideways. Damnit, did I hit my head?

“It sounds like it came from over here... Oh! You’ve fallen down, haven’t you...”

I was simultaneously terrified and reassured. What... was that? Did it matter? I’d obviously fucked up killing myself, with my luck this creature with fangs and claws would finish me off.

“Are you okay?”

Wait, what? It sounded concerned. I was getting a boy vibe, though I couldn’t be totally certain with the voice and my slightly blurry vision.

He came closer and I noticed the claws were retractable. His fangs might have been just slightly sharper than my canines. He was covered in poofy white fur.

He bent down and I flinched at the touch, like I always did, but—

“Here, get up...”

He helped me to my feet. I was in pain, but I could stand. He was smiling softly, still standing close to me, but not touching.

I could be... anyone. Anything. I could be me and he wouldn’t know any better.

“I’m Chara,” I forced out.

His smile widened. He wasn’t scary at all. He was actually kind of... adorable. “Chara, huh? That’s a nice name. My name is Asriel Dreemurr.”

I had to let him help me walk. He held onto my unbroken arm to support some of my weight. “You’re a human, aren’t you?” he asked excitedly. “You came from the surface. Humans live on the surface.”

I nodded slightly. The movement didn’t worsen my headache, but I still felt a little dizzy. Come on. I could talk. “What... what exactly are you?”

“I’m a monster.” Still excited. “Everyone down here is a monster. We can do magic. Is it true that humans can’t do magic? That’s what my mom told me, but I almost didn’t believe her because with souls that powerful I would think you’d _have_ to be able to do magic—”

I tuned him out. Not on purpose, really. I just... wanted to go to sleep. Part of me was paying very close attention to his hands and body and what direction his feet (his paws. PAWS.) were pointed so I might be able to anticipate it if he tried to attack me. A small sliver of me wanted to lean on him and cry, but I knew better. No crying.

Asriel seemed to realize I wasn’t really listening to him. He kept walking and I plodded on alongside him, wondering where we were going. He mentioned that at some point, I’m sure. I just missed it. He chatted about the various environments and temperature fluctuations we crossed through, but I barely heard him. There might have been others around, too – other monsters, apparently – but nobody stopped us or spoke to us.

I didn’t pass out until we took a ride on a particularly long elevator.

 

* * *

 

Eyes open. Sunlight streaming down through a hole. I recognize that hole. I recognize this cavern. I recognize everything but the golden flowers I’m lying on.

Whoa. Serious déjà vu. I mean, I Fell before, yes, but... it feels like this has happened more than one other time.

My chest feels heavy. For some reason, I am unsurprised to discover that I cannot control this body. I am even less surprised when Asriel does not come for me.

I was dead. Makes sense that he’s dead, too.

Hesitantly, someone reaches out to me. _Is anyone there?_

I feel like I should reply. Yes, I am here. I can hear you. Who are you?

_Hello?_

I am nothing if not determined, damnit. I concentrate. I think... that’s them. Hi, I reply. My name is Chara. Who are you?

 _Frisk._ This must be the true owner of this body. _I think I already knew who you were._

Their name sounds familiar. In fact, their entire... their SOUL, their essence, everything about them feels familiar. It feels... well, not like I can trust them. I don’t trust anyone. I only ever fully trusted Asriel.

A wave of sadness washes over me. I can’t believe I let myself drag him into my grudge. I won’t apologize for the grudge, not ever, but... he might still be alive if I kept him uninvolved.

_Are you okay?_

Asriel asked the same question when he found me. I’m fine, I answer. Let’s just go.

 

* * *

 

As we navigate the Ruins, this feeling of guilt keeps nagging at me. It’s not guilt over what happened to Asriel – I have plenty of that, but this is directed at something else.

I’m not exactly sure what until Frisk points it out. _I feel like I’ve hurt all of these people before_ , Frisk tells me quietly. _I’m not sure when and I can’t see how, but... it just feels that way._

I nod. I know what you mean. We’ve been here before. I’m... pretty sure.

“*Froggit didn’t understand what you said, but was flattered anyway,” I say.

Frisk smiles slightly and dances around the flies. It’s less of an assault and more of a curious poke, just to see what this strange new creature does. Satisfied, the Froggit hops away when Frisk indicates they would like to end the fight.

 _I don’t want to hurt anyone,_ Frisk says.

I don’t really want to, either, but I think back to that flower. If Toriel hadn’t stepped in, I’m not sure we would have had a choice but to FIGHT back. Allowing ourselves to be killed isn’t exactly an option, is it?

No, Frisk. Really. Is it?

They think about it. _I want to say no, but... that doesn’t exactly feel right._

I might agree, but logic is taking over. And...

I want to keep you from getting hurt too, I tell Frisk. If it’s you or someone else, I’ll pick you.

(I don’t want another Asriel on my hands)

Frisk abruptly whips out their phone. Calls Toriel. They call her _Mom_.

“Huh? Did you just call me... ‘Mom?’” she asks. Her surprise fades into audible delight. “Well... I suppose... Would that make you happy? To call me ‘Mother?’”

“Uh-huh!” Frisk hums into the phone.

“Well then, call me whatever you like!”

They hang up. I feel a lump in my nonexistent throat. Frisk, why did you do that?

 _Felt right._ A pause. _Did that upset you? I’m sorry, I should have asked you first—_

No, no. It was... nice. She really liked it. I’m fine, really. Thank you, Frisk.

Another pause. Frisk utterly annihilates the tender moment by calling Toriel again, and—

“If you were a vegetable, you’d be a CUTECUMBER!”

I can hear her snorting in laughter on the other line. I’m appalled. Mortified. I feel like I’m going to die from the secondhand embarrassment and I’m already dead.

Toriel laughs it off, but Frisk still hangs up unjustifiably pleased with themself. I want to punch them in the face in spite of the likelihood that I, too, will feel the resulting pain.

Frisk, what the _hell_ was that!?

 _Felt right_. Oh, even their _thoughts_ are cheeky. They are getting more punchable by the second. _Besides, she liked it._

She liked the _pun_ , you idiot, not an eight-year-old hitting on her!

_I’m ten._

So what!?

_So should I flirt with you instead?_

I sputter, which isn’t me at all because I DON’T SPUTTER DAMN IT SHUT UP FRISK. I decide that I will give Frisk The Cold Shoulder for ten minutes.

I could never do that to Asriel. He was too sensitive. But Frisk just giggles and continues on their way.

They flirt with Moldsmal later on, too.

 

* * *

 

Toriel still stands in our way when we try to go.

I am impressed with Frisk’s determination. Toriel hugs us before she allows us to leave. I want – I need—

Frisk lets me slip into their body a little, so I can really feel it. It feels good. I don’t question how Frisk is able to do this.

Flowey is there on our way out. My guard is up, but Frisk is calm.

“Clever. Verrrryyy clever,” he says sarcastically. “You think you’re really smart, don’t you? In this world, it’s kill or be killed. So you were able to play by your own rules. You spared the life of a single person. Hee hee hee... I bet you feel really great. You didn’t kill anybody this time.”

My stomach bottoms out. How does he know? _We_ barely know, and we’re the ones it’s happening to!

“But what will you do if you meet a relentless killer?” Flowey demands eagerly. “You’ll die and you’ll die and you’ll die. Until you tire of trying. What will you do then? Will you kill out of frustration? Or will you give up entirely on this world... and let ME inherit the power to control it?”

Damn, his face looks creepy. And... we can die? Well, I know _I_ can, but... we can die and keep trying?

“I am the prince of this world’s future. Don’t worry, my little monarch, my plan isn’t regicide. This is SO much more interesting.”

He throws his head back and cackles. Then he disappears into the ground.

Frisk cocks their head to the side. _That was a weird thing to say. That last part._

That’s not important, I decide. Frisk, he implied that we can die and come back. Should we... test it?

A few seconds of silence. _I don’t know about that, Chara. I know I don’t want to hurt anyone. And I want to prove Flowey wrong._

So don’t kill and don’t be killed? I can get on board with that. (The flower rubs me the wrong way. Something about him gives me chills.) Okay, Frisk. Let’s go.

 

* * *

 

_(So fucking cold. Usually I like the cold. It’s an excuse to hide myself in baggy sweaters. The more of my skin I can cover the better so no one sees the cuts and bruises and bandages or smell the antibiotic ointment and rubbing alcohol and blood. Of course, without the sweater, it’s fucking cold)_

_(“You cut your damn hair again. How many times have I told you not to do that? You’re cuter with it long—”)_

_(No point, no point in being cuter, cuteness isn’t some shield that will keep me from getting hit as hard)_

_(“Smile, you ungrateful little brat.”_

_My face twitches in revulsion. I try to swallow the bile rising at the back of my throat. I should do it. Following orders immediately is almost always the smart move. I know what will happen if I don’t, but I don’t know if I can do it this time._

_I think of the knife I stole three days ago. I think of holding it in my hands, of slashing the next person who touches me to bits. Of stabbing it into their stomach, but slowly, over and over again, keeping a steady force so the metal gently parts their insides and I’d say shit like “It doesn’t hurt, does it? I’m being as careful as I can,” but I’d know, I’d know by the blood and their tears and their cries and it would probably smell, right, stabbing someone’s stomach, because their intestines would rupture and they’d be just as full of shit as I know they are but I’d probably get pissed so maybe I’d twist the knife when it is all the way inside them and—_

_I smile.)_

It’s cold.

This is fine. I don’t particularly like the cold, but I prefer it to the heat. Heat makes human skin all sweat-slicked and gross and—

Frisk is crouched in the snow. They’re crying.

I tentatively reach out. Frisk? Frisk, what’s wrong?

They grip their hair. _Chara! Chara, I_ _–_ _I didn’t_ _–_ _what was that, wh-what happened, I don’t—_

They can’t stop sobbing. Damn, did they – did they _see_? I know _I_ was locked in my memories, for a little bit, but – I don’t know how this head-sharing thing works, but I know that it’s... possible, for Frisk to pick up things from me. It happened with Asriel. The sheer depth of my hatred floored him when we neared that village, he was left reeling, which was why I was able to control his body so easily. Just like – just like I could feel his boundless horror when he realized what my intent was. His panic, his sorrow—

Frisk has dust on their hands.

I can compose absolutely no reaction to this. Frisk, I say, what happened? Why did you dust someone?

 _I don’t_ _–_ _I felt so threatened_ _–_ _you_ weren’t here _, Chara, I called for you and nobody came, I couldn’t_ _–_ _I didn’t want—_

More crying. Frisk apparently didn’t have my flashback with me, but they did feel all the emotions I felt while I was having it.

I am beyond stunned. Frisk, I’m so sorry. I was... temporarily incapacitated. I... can’t promise it won’t happen again. I really hope it doesn’t happen again.

_I’m scared. I’m scared it will happen again. I don’t want to hurt anyone, Chara._

I know. I’m sorry.

_Will you... talk to me more often? So I know you’re here?_

Sure. Of course I will.

_Chara? I’m really glad you’re here._

I am shocked by the warmth they send my way. I am certain I do not deserve it. It’s my fault they felt those awful things, it’s my fault they dusted – several people, actually, we are LV 3. I have only caused them pain.

But I know how to lie.

I’m glad too, Frisk, I respond. Let’s keep moving.

 

* * *

 

Frisk flirts with Papyrus, too.

I’m not okay with it because come on, Frisk, but it’s more annoying than harmful. I know human adults are dangerous and I’d force my way into controlling Frisk’s body and fucking _run_ before I’d ever let Frisk interact with one of _them_ , let alone flirt with one, but I decided a long time ago that even the worst of monsters are better than the best of humans, so I don’t expect anything bad to come from flirting with a monster adult. If anything, I expect Papyrus to snicker and dismiss it like Toriel did.

AND IF YOU EVER FLIRT WITH TORIEL AGAIN, FRISK, I WILL _END_ YOU. UNDERSTAND?

Frisk totally blows me off in order to blow Papyrus a kiss.

“WHAT? FL-FLIRTING?!” Papyrus exclaims, (somehow) blushing. “SO YOU FINALLY REVEAL YOUR ULTIMATE FEELINGS! W-WELL! I’M A SKELETON WITH VERY HIGH STANDARDS!!!”

...

So I may have misjudged. We are probably more adult than Papyrus.

Tell him you have zero redeeming qualities, I tell Frisk.

Frisk does it. “OH NO!!! YOU’RE MEETING ALL MY STANDARDS!!! I GUESS THIS MEANS I HAVE TO GO ON A DATE WITH YOU...?”

Is this guy serious?

“LET’S DATE L-LATER!! AFTER I CAPTURE YOU!”

I’m a kid and I _know_ dating doesn’t work that way. I kind of want Frisk to insult him, but if I had to guess, Papyrus would twist it around in his optimistic little head into a compliment. Oh well.

“*Papyrus realizes he doesn’t have ears,” I say. Frisk snorts in laughter.

 

* * *

 

We aren’t about to pass up free food, so we let Sans treat us to lunch, even though I feel like something’s crawling on my back every time he looks at me – uh, Frisk.

Apparently the stupid flower is harassing Papyrus, too. We caught him following us in the forest.

Aaaaaand apparently Sans likes to drink ketchup. Gross.

We head back to Snowdin for our ‘date’ with Papyrus. Well, Frisk heads back, despite my whining.

It’s full of Papyrus flapping his arms and squawking things about Frisk’s _dating power_ (whatever the hell _that_ is) and Frisk complimenting Papyrus whenever they are given the obvious prompt and _spaghetti_ caches in Papyrus’s outfits and _holy shit_ that _outfit_.

Frisk has a blast, even though Papyrus misreads absolutely everything and accuses Frisk of being obsessed with him and ruthlessly friend zones them, which is good because he’s even more clueless about dating than we are. Doesn’t his so-called _dating manual_ say you’re not supposed to date children?

Undyne pursues us determinedly through Waterfall. These are the only times I am quiet because Frisk needs to concentrate. Every time Frisk looks at something, I have something to say about it.

Frisk takes an umbrella, turns back the way we came, and...

“*You placed the umbrella atop the statue,” I say softly. “*Inside the statue, a music box begins to play...”

Frisk pauses. _Chara, you okay?_

I’m fine. Fine. No need to dump my shit on Frisk. I’ve done that enough already. Maybe not intentionally, but I did.

I’m fine, Frisk. Really.

They turn to leave. Wait, I say, trying to keep my desperation from them. Can... can we stay? For a little bit?

 _Sure._ They are smiling. _As long as you want. Just tell me when you’re ready to leave._

Frisk sits down next to my best friend’s memorial and listens to the music box with me. I feel like hugging them but I’m unsure I remember how and this body-sharing thing is bound to make it weird.

Frisk wraps their arms around themself and mentally pokes me. I let myself into their body once I understand that’s what they want, their senses seeping into my awareness with greater clarity.

I feel more present here with the wet air and the pattering of dripping water and the soft sound of the music box. Tears prick Frisk’s eyes.

The hell are you crying for, I grumble with absolutely no annoyance because I am waiting for them to call me out.

A pause. _It’s a sad melody,_ Frisk finally replies, head-voice kind. _Sorry. I’ll stop. Or I won’t, no promises._

Damnit. They’re too fucking good to be human.

The pseudo-hug feels nice.

 

* * *

 

When asked, “Would you smooch a ghost?” Frisk screams “Heck yeah!” before I can even process it.

After a beat, I say, Frisk. I’m kind of a ghost.

They let out a stupid giggle. _I know._ I only roll my eyes.

They indulge Alphys with her constant calls and Undernet updates. I am almost immediately annoyed with them, even if she occasionally does useful things. I think Frisk finds her shaky confidence as our guide endearing, even though Frisk and I both juggle usually-correct hunches on how to navigate our way through Hotland and the Core.

Mettaton seems more irritating than menacing. When he sings that stupid song to Frisk, they just stand in one spot and sway, ignoring my griping about why monster adults think it’s perfectly normal to make silly romantic gestures towards children. Seriously, no one was this flirty when I lived here. Maybe they can’t tell Frisk is a child because they’re human and it’s been forever since the last human Fell? But no, Frisk is wearing a striped shirt, and that’s a dead giveaway in monster culture.

I dunno. Sans called us _kid_ but Sans... seemed like he knew more than he was letting on.

 _Or,_ Frisk says, _more likely, Mettaton is using my humanity in the most dramatic ways he can to boost ratings._

I don’t suppose it actually matters. It’s not as though Frisk has anything to fear from monsters, save for the whole ‘we need your SOUL’ spiel Undyne threw at us between spears.

(What is Asgore thinking? It was _my_ plan, but... why has he not absorbed the SOULs he has already and crossed the barrier to get the seventh? Is he worried that he’ll die like Asriel did, and then the monsters will have nothing again?)

I have noticed it. I know Frisk has too. The underlying sense of hopelessness. Everyone is clinging to the promise of a seventh SOUL. (I don’t know if Frisk intends to _be_ the seventh SOUL, and that scares me. I don’t want that. I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.)

Frisk reaches Mettaton and immediately begins posing as dramatically as they can. Three out of four of their dodges are dance moves that I am unqualified to judge but I think are lame anyway. Mettaton loves it, though, and I roll my eyes. Or I would, but they’re Frisk’s eyes and entirely under Frisk’s control at the moment.

I monitor our HP. More often than not, I am the voice of reason, reminding Frisk to eat even when eating requires them to pause the spectacular time they seem to have everywhere they go with everyone with whom they interact (lucky asshole, graced with social skills beyond my understanding). I point out inspirational sights and situations to keep them determined. I don’t know if I bring them back alone, but when they die (because we _have_ died, a few times) my memory of Asgore’s voice pulls us back into this world.

Frisk panics when Mettaton shuts down, running to him and staring wide-eyed at Alphys while she examines the robot. I try to give her the evil eye for lying to us, but Frisk won’t let me.

 _It was harmless,_ Frisk tells me. _It wasn’t like she had bad intentions._

That means absolutely nothing. Just because someone doesn’t mean to hurt you doesn’t mean they won’t. I know you know that, Frisk.

Frisk has no reply. Alphys follows us until we reach the elevator to (home) the castle. Once there, she says, “I can’t take this anymore. I lied to you. A human SOUL isn’t strong enough to cross the barrier alone. It takes at least a human soul... and a monster soul.” She turns to face us, posture and expression drawn with remorse. “If you want to go home... You’ll have to take his soul. You’ll have to kill ASGORE. I’m sorry.”

She flees. Frisk stands there in the open doorway of the elevator, frowning a little. Then they step inside.

They don’t seem overly concerned with this new information. I realize something. Frisk, I... I knew that and I didn’t tell you. It never occurred to me. I’m sorry.

_It’s okay. It doesn’t matter._

So you don’t want to go back.

A heavy pause. _I... don’t really have anything to go back to. But I’m not going to kill Asgore. I’m not going to hurt anyone if I can help it._

You’re not... you’re not just going to let him take your SOUL, are you?

_No. I have heard multiple times that he plans on destroying humanity. I can’t let that happen._

I could, I think darkly. It was what I wanted to do long ago. Frisk, if he gets your SOUL, we might not be able to go back when we die. I don’t know how that works.

_And we don’t know what will happen to you. I think you’re attached to my SOUL, somehow._

I think so, too, but I feel immensely guilty about this and I have no clue why. I push it away from Frisk’s awareness. I tend to ignore my emotions unless I can pinpoint a rational reason to have them.

The elevator ride is over. Frisk steps into the capital.

 

* * *

 

Asgore gives Frisk multiple chances to put off the inevitable fight. Seeing him again is bittersweet. He seems to have somehow shrunk in the time I have been dead, even though, like Toriel, he ceased aging the instant Asriel died. He... holds himself as if he is carrying a great weight.

When the FIGHT begins, he hangs his head, refusing to look at Frisk. And...

Frisk is dumbfounded now that the awe of seeing the barrier has worn off. _I can’t spare him,_ they say. _Chara, I can’t spare him._

I know. I know. I can sense it, too. He...

Fuck, he believes he doesn’t deserve it, so he will refuse to allow it.

When Frisk hugged Toriel before departing the Ruins, I had a thought. Mom. I have a similar one now. Dad.

Frisk tries to tell Asgore they do not want to fight, quietly at first, then growing firmer and louder as their inability to end the fight mercifully sinks in. His ATTACK and DEFENSE drop. I wonder if that was subconscious or deliberate.

He will not speak to Frisk, though, and talking does nothing else. Frisk refuses to attack, tears running down their face. I’m pretty sure the tears are theirs this time, but I share the sentiment.

I wonder, if Asgore looked up, would he be crying, too? Would he instantly lose his resolve? I don’t know. I do know, seeing him here with the human SOULs, that he killed all six of these humans. Despite Undyne’s bravado and initial malice, her orders were very likely to have been capture, not kill. My father would not have wanted these deaths to weigh on any SOUL but his own. And they do. That much is painfully obvious.

I watch and feel Frisk die several times before I say anything. They keep trying to talk. It is not enough.

Frisk, I say. You need to attack.

_No._

We can always try again if...

Frisk senses how repulsive and dangerous that thought is the exact same time I do. Their expression twists. They won’t stop crying. _NO, Chara. I don’t want to hurt anyone._

Even if that’s the only way we can save him, Frisk?

_That’s not right. That CAN’T be right._

Why not, I demand. You don’t have any killing intent, so it’s not like you’re going to dust him in one attack!

A beat of silence. It’s our turn. Asgore stands before us, stance unwavering, still not daring to look at Frisk.

 _I know,_ Frisk whispers. _I know that. But I still feel like I will. Because... it happened before. Right?_

Hearing Frisk admit it is both relieving and horrifying. I thought those suspicious, those feelings of déjà vu, were mine alone. I was wrong.

They take my lack of reply as confirmation. _I_ _–_ _I hurt_ _–_ _I killed everyone once. I d-don’t_ _–_ _I can’t_ _–_ _I’m so sorry, Chara, I’m so—_

They’re really crying now, nearly bawling, right in the middle of a FIGHT. And I _still_ don’t know what to do. Never knew what to do when Asriel cried. It was usually my fault, though.

Frisk, it wasn’t you, I say. It was me. It was obviously me.

_N-no, I—_

Damnit, Frisk, stop your crybaby shit. It was ME. We’re LV 4 and the only time you dusted anyone was when I was... You know, you know I’m bad for you and that might surprise you but it doesn’t surprise me because I’m just BAD, okay, I was probably really horrible to you and I’m sure that I was doing the killing by the end because Sans scares the _shit_ outta me, and, and maybe it wasn’t all my fault because I might have been fucking _remembering_ all the time and I get _really nasty_ when I remember, so, so. So I’m sorry for yelling at you, because you’re – you’re naturally a nice person. I’m not. I never was. So I’m sure it was me.

Nothing happens for a solid thirty seconds. Asgore doesn’t twitch. I cannot sense a single thought from Frisk.

Frisk lashes out with the worn dagger. The attack takes off a fraction of Asgore’s considerable HP.

Turn after turn passes. Asgore’s HP steadily drops. Frisk spins and pivots and stoops and steps, always trying to make sure they know what is going on around them, dodging as many attacks as possible.

They pause to eat a cinnamon bunny. I am thinking about ways to burn myself out of their head without hurting them when they speak to me. _I’m not sure. I’m not as nice as you think I am. It could have been either of us. It was probably both of us._

Some dark, shriveled part of me revels in this confession. They seemed so damn perfect and pure, wanting to make friends and make everyone happy and shoulder _everyone’s_ burdens for them all with a big fat smile and I was the kid who could barely interact with Toriel or Asgore for the first month after I met them despite them showing me nothing but kindness and even after that there were days I couldn’t leave the house or even let Asriel touch me and I was just a parasite to them, that family I brought to ruin, just like I am now, except now it’s Frisk I’m parasitizing—

Damnitstopstopstop. Think _logically._ It... it is likely that I (or you?) manipulated Frisk, kept them afraid, or made them feel like they had to prove something to me. It wouldn’t be the first time. But Frisk is right: we probably both share responsibility. And... and even though this is Asgore and I want to do this as much as Frisk does, even though I told them to do this, I won’t let them do this alone.

 

* * *

 

“We could be like... Like a family...”

And I shriek curse words into the headspace when Flowey comes out of fucking _nowhere_ and kills Asgore. His SOUL appears, white, shimmering, and two thoughts rip through my head—

looks just like Toriel’s—

think I’ve seen this before—

Flowey destroys Asgore’s SOUL before I can yell at the shocked Frisk to go absorb it. After – after what Asgore _said_ , that little _shit_ of a plant still KILLED HIM and I – I—

Need to not allow my violent urges to bring Frisk to harm, no matter how intense they are. “You IDIOT,” Flowey chirps. “You haven’t learned a thing. In this world...”

His face begins to... melt, almost, but my attention is on the six colored hearts circling him. Shit. Oh shit.

 _This is bad?_ Frisk asks, though their tone indicates they know it’s bad.

“It’s KILL or BE killed!” Flowey shrieks at us. There is a blinding flash when he absorbs the SOULs, and

 

* * *

 

There is a jump, a blip in time, something that feels like one of Sans’s _shortcuts_. I orient myself. Frisk orients themself.

(Somehow, you were involved and I know this, not that I can do anything about it)

It’s dark. Undeterred, Frisk moves towards a lone sparkle in the distance. A SAVE. I need to think of something inspirational to say to keep them DETERMINED so they can access their (our?) abilities, but my mind keeps drawing blanks. There is nothing here. What am I supposed to reference?

It doesn’t matter, because Flowey instantly destroys Frisk’s SAVE FILE as soon as they access it. “It’s me, FLOWEY. FLOWEY the FLOWER,” he announces, as if it’s necessary to remind us when there is a GIANT VERSION OF HIS HEAD floating in front of us. “I owe you a HUGE thanks. You really did a number on that old fool.”

Anger bubbles up, frothing and familiar. The ego on this guy, I hiss at Frisk. Someone’s overcompensating.

My meanness actually seems to calm Frisk down somewhat, though they still stare apprehensively at Flowey, who, naturally, continues gloating. “Boy! I’ve been empty for so long... It feels great to have a SOUL inside me again.”

Wait, what?

 _He doesn’t have a SOUL?_ Frisk wonders. _Then how...?_

The realization hits me like a freight train. I dunno, Frisk, but he has six human SOULs. Without a monster SOUL, he can’t cross through the barrier. That means his only other option is to break it.

_But he needs seven SOULs to... oh._

Flowey, unsurprisingly, arrives at the same conclusion. He has been planning this. He followed us with the intention to steal the human SOULs and ambush us here.

“Oh, and forget about escaping to you old SAVE FILE,” he adds smugly. “It’s gone FOREVER. But don’t worry. Your old friend FLOWEY... has worked out a replacement for you! I’ll SAVE over your own death. So you can watch me tear you to bloody pieces. Over, and over, and over...”

Pissed, I seize control of Frisk’s body and step forward. This surprises the weed. “...what? Do you really think you can stop ME? Hee hee hee... You really ARE an idiot.”

Frisk’s red SOUL is yanked into the darkness. Flowey approaches. He is some fucked-up mashup of plant parts, technology, and human organs. Part of me admires how appropriately menacing and disturbing he looks, but most of me scoffs at the overkill, especially on the size front.

His attack is immediate and unrelenting. For some reason, my brain thinks of Sans, which is confusing. Frisk can do little but dodge, but—

 

* * *

 

—but Flowey makes good on his promise and kills Frisk. Then LOADs, just to kill them again. And again. And again. And again and again and again again again, and

And then—

Then Frisk’s calls for help are answered by the human SOULs. This is the LAST thing I expect. Humans are awful, they all have an innate evil in them that only worsens the older they get and – and yeah, Frisk isn’t bad, but they aren’t very old and, and they said so themself that they have to try to be as nice as they are so – so maybe all the human SOULs Asgore collected were those of children and that would explain why they are helping us—

 _The shoes,_ Frisk says suddenly, _at Toriel’s. You’re right. All these SOULs belonged to kids._

I make sure to hide my following thoughts from Frisk. Asgore killed _children_ after losing his own? I mean – it was obvious – he refused MERCY and basically told Frisk to kill him and take his SOUL to get through the barrier, but – shit – I was the suicidal one in the family, but – but maybe I didn’t want to live, to get older, but—

Flowey’s LOAD fails. The human SOULs rebel, lighting up this dark, listless void. Another flash, and

Flowey is reduced to his usual form, slightly frayed. Frisk’s SOUL floats determinedly in front of us.

Still in the FIGHT.

 _Chara?_ Frisk asks, kind of timidly.

Suddenly I understand why they have been constantly asking me for my opinion on what should be done and respecting my input, even if they do not always follow it. They are worried that, without me, they would hurt everyone. Kill everyone. Because they did. Every time (even in the other times) I came back from wrestling with my past, I found them with dusty hands and tears on their face.

Maybe Frisk isn’t as good as I thought they were, but they are still better than me.

Do what feels right, Frisk, I tell them. I trust you.

 

* * *

 

I was doing a lot of unexpected waking up lately.

I jolted out of sleep, eyes snapping open, ears strained, categorizing noises and—

Wait. Where the hell was I?

The room was, while not huge, bigger than my room. This wasn’t my bed (If it was, I’d be hidden under it by now) and I recognized nothing. There was a wardrobe by the bed, a bookshelf next to that, a couple of stuffed animals – er, weird-looking stuffed animals – on the foot of the bed.

I did hear... shuffling, voices, but they sounded far away enough that my confusion blotted out my fear. Okay, no immediate threat in my environment, which meant an injury tally was up next.

Um. I remembered my arm being broken. Now it wasn’t. Had I been wrong?

No, because it still... hurt, but the pain was dull and far less intense than what I remembered. I was not on pain medication, my clear head and quick assessment of what I could sense proved that to me. My ribs still hurt a little, too, but just a little.

Panicking suddenly, I threw off the blanket and sat up, but my suspicions were unfounded. I was still wearing my clothes and they were still dirty and gross. If someone had removed them to treat my injuries (because that _seemed_ to have happened...?) they would not have put them back on me. Right?

The door was opening. My heart jumped into my throat. Oh _shit_ , was I really not paying attention?

I did not have enough time to roll off the bed and hide under it and I hadn’t seen anything that could be used as a weapon within reach. Shit, where was my knife? I knew it fell with me, did I forget to pick it up?

“Oh! You’re awake!” The voice was deep and the silhouette was HUGE and HOW could I not hear this creature moving towards the room, but when it walked into the room its footsteps made little noise.

The beast walked to the opposite corner of the room to turn the lamp on. I saw large, curved horns and massive paw-like hands and I was frozen, frozen inside this tiny _(useless)_ fragile _(worthless)_ weaponless body and after waking up twice after expecting to die maybe I didn’t want to die yet, maybe I just wanted to be left alone for a little while—

The creature approached. My brain registered his maleness (he had a freaking BEARD seriously whatthefuck) and that his smile was friendly despite how unfamiliar that was. “Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked.

It... _sounded_ like a genuine question, but I didn’t know how to answer. He was... offering me tea? (Did I like tea? Had I ever had tea?) Was this a real question, or was it a trick? Would I get hurt if I answered incorrectly?

The smile flickered in concern. “Are you alright, young one? Are you in any pain?”

He took another step forward and reached out a hand, to touch my head, I thought, but it didn’t matter because I had jerked away from it before it could even get close to me and cried out.

And then something amazing happened. He took a quick step backward and raised both hands, palms towards me. “I did not mean to frighten you,” he said solemnly. “I apologize.”

Really? This was... happening? This creature could crush me to death in one hand and instead he was worried about accidentally scaring me?

“Hey, Dad, what – oh! Chara, you’re awake!”

I recognized that voice. Asriel had trotted into the room and wasted no time in running up to my bedside and getting in my face (well, not really, but I was very sensitive to intrusions of my personal space).

“How are you feeling? Do you hurt anywhere? Are you hungry? Mom said you’d have to eat something to finish up healing, her magic can only help so much on you ‘cause you’re human – did you meet my dad? You need to meet my mom! I’ll go get her!”

The words tumbled out of him so quickly I could barely process them and he was already halfway across the room before I reached out and made a noise. It was tiny and barely-audible but still desperate and I hated myself for it but Asriel was the only familiar thing here so was it really so bad that I wanted him to stick around while I got used to my new surroundings, or, or whatever was going to happen next—

Asriel might not have heard, but his father did. He reached out a hand as big as Asriel’s head and placed it on his son’s shoulder. “Why don’t you stay with our guest,” he suggested gently in a way that was more of an order than a suggestion. “I will fetch your mother.”

He slipped out of the room (still moving quietly) and Asriel turned around and came back to me. One of my hands was still outstretched towards him and he took it between both of his and my first instinct was to _tear it away hit him so he lets go run run hide_ —

He examined my fingers quite gently. “It was kinda scary when you – what’s the word Mom used – fainted,” he said. He continued in a more hushed tone. “I was worried you had fallen down, but... you’re okay! That’s great!”

He grinned at me. I realized I wasn’t afraid of him. He was just a kid. And he helped me. I’d passed out and everything, he could have done anything he wanted to me and he decided to help me.

“Um,” I said (because I wasn’t sure how to smile back). “Thanks. For, uh. Saving me.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” What the hell was _that_? Worry? I almost didn’t recognize it. “Mom, um, said you were pretty hurt.”

It was a bit questioning, a bit guilty. Ah. He had been eavesdropping on his parents talking about me, so he couldn’t ask them just how hurt I was.

“Not really,” I heard myself saying. “I’ve had worse.”

Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth, Chara.

His hands on mine were starting to itch, so I pulled away. He let go without a fight. “So your mother healed me?” I asked because I could tell he wanted to enquire about how I had been hurt worse. “Um... how?”

“Magic,” Asriel replied. “Mom’s been teaching me how to do healing magic, but I just started learning. I haven’t even practiced on any monsters, so it would’ve been a bad idea for me to try to heal you.” His frowned briefly, lips pursed a little, then smiled again. “But Mom’s the best healer in the Underground, so you were in good hands!”

Magic. His voice was earnest. I didn’t think he was fucking with me. Now that I thought about it, my broken bones felt like they would if they had been healing naturally for several weeks. I had no other explanation. Human medicine couldn’t do this.

The door creaked. I lashed out and grabbed one of Asriel’s hands when some horrible thought like _he seems happy so they don’t hurt him so they won’t hurt me if he’s close by_ ripped through my head but

But Asriel seemed perfectly at ease at the sight of his parents and he would know, so I calmed down a little. I was sure I was squeezing his hand too hard, but he didn’t say anything.

Now that I wasn’t fretting about my new surroundings and new people and not having my knife _(where is my knife where is my knife)_ I could see the family resemblance. They looked sorta like a cross between a lion and a goat. They had long droopy goat-ears and a snout and paw-like hands and feet and white fur, which I noticed felt kinda nice when I loosened my grip a little and ran my thumb over the back of Asriel’s hand. Asriel’s mother had horns, too, but they were only a few inches long. I glanced at Asriel’s head. He didn’t have horns. Was it an age thing? Would he grow horns and a mane and a beard like his father when he grew up?

“Hello, young one,” Asriel’s mother said. She approached, but remained a step farther away from me than Asriel. “My name is Toriel. You have already met my husband, Asgore—” a wave from the giant standing next to the door, “—and my son, Asriel. Asriel informed us that your name is Chara. Is it just Chara?”

Suddenly I felt like I had been punched in the head, but in a good way, for once. ‘Those who climb the mountain disappear.’ No one would follow me. No one would look for me. No one could contradict anything I told these people. I would probably never see anyone I knew again. I was free.

“Yes,” I answered firmly. “Just Chara.” A brief moment of panic. “Ma’am.”

“Oh, that is unnecessary,” she responded kindly. “You may address us by our names. May I check your injuries?”

(Which ones?) I didn’t like touching other people on principle, but they weren’t human, so maybe it would be different. The hand-holding was weird for me, but Asriel wasn’t human or an adult, and Toriel wasn’t human but she was an adult, so...

I pulled my hand away from Asriel to stretch my arm out towards her. I’d see how I felt after she touched my arm.

One of her hands settled under my arm, the other over it, both over my grimy sweater. I felt... something. It was warm and tingly in my forearm and I could see a faint glow from her hands.

I didn’t hate it. I didn’t like it either. I’d... rather not, if that option was available. Asriel was the first person I had touched of my own volition in a long time.

“Unfortunately, I cannot heal you completely,” Toriel told me after a moment. She released my arm and leaned over to place a hand on my still-tender ribs. I hoped she wouldn’t comment on my heart pounding against my sternum, trying to burst out of my chest and fly free. “The composition of humans differs from that of monsters, but food or drink should speed up the healing process.”

“Would you like that cup of tea now?” Asgore asked happily.

Why the hell not? Might as well try it. “Sure,” I replied. “Um, thank you.”

Asgore left the room once again. “Asriel, why don’t you go help your father?” Toriel said, fondly running a hand along her son’s head.

“Aw, but I wanna stay,” Asriel complained. “I wanna tell Chara about the Underground and magic and the barrier and the Ruins and Snowdin and everyplace else we walked by to get here—”

“You may talk later,” Toriel said, a hint more firmly. “Right now, Chara needs a drink and more rest, so they can heal properly.”

My heartbeat fluttered. Did she just say _they_?

Asriel looked disappointed, but he nodded. “I’ll see you later, Chara. I hope you feel better soon.”

Toriel followed him to the door and shut it behind him. I did feel a little – a little more vulnerable with Asriel gone, but Toriel just called me _they_ , so, so maybe monster adults were good, or at least she was, maybe I didn’t have to—

She walked back to my bedside, but maintained an acceptable distance. “Chara,” she said softly, “you have other injuries aside from those you acquired during your fall into the Underground.”

My stomach dropped through the floor. Oh fuck. This, this was where she asked _whatever did you do to deserve those injuries_ and I couldn’t reply and she said _well you must have done something bad to deserve that and I don’t want a bad child around my son, you’ll have to go back to where you came from—_

“I healed what I could under the scrutiny of my husband and son,” she continued, voice still very soft. “But I did not reach all your injuries. Would you like me to try to heal the rest of them now? It would require physical contact. Again, I cannot promise to heal you fully, but—”

She cut herself off when I rapidly shook my head. I should have said something, but I screwed my mouth shut. I was afraid of what would come out if I opened it. With the way my head was screaming, I suspected I might, too.

“Okay. That’s perfectly fine.” She kind of looked... sad. “Just so you know, anything you eat or drink down here will also heal you, to a degree. After the tea, a meal or two, and more sleep, you may find your health completely restored.”

Before I could (not) say anything, Asgore returned. The teacup was dwarfed by his massive hands. I had to unclench my fists from the blankets to take it from him.

The cup was warm, but not steaming. I took a sip.

“It’s good,” I said, immediately taking another sip. They both smiled at me. I wasn’t even lying. “It’s really good.”


	3. You're pissing me off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first two chapters were kind of rough. It gets better from here on out.

Usually things go better if we notice one another early on.

If we do not, I freak out about being in a body over which I have very little control and Frisk becomes scared of my anxiety and the occasional wisp of my thoughts that reaches them because they can tell these things are not theirs. They are terrified when the memories I’ve buried wake up and howl at the moon and run around and shit all over my brain and bash at the inside of my skull because they want _outoutout_ but they go nowhere because I absolutely CANNOT let Frisk see I won’t do that to them I never did that to Asriel—

If Frisk and I have an established route of communication and I am not being horrible and bitter to them (even though I’m always horrible), almost all of their kills occur because one of my memories catches me and I have to leave them in order to pry myself off its bloodied fangs. When I finally make it back, they are always distraught at the new dust on their sweater and between their fingers and I have to spend time consoling them, which is a bad joke. Most of the times I tried to console Asriel when he was upset (over something I rarely understood), he would just cry harder. Usually Toriel or Asgore had to calm him or I’d let him cry himself out and then endure whatever amount of cuddling he required to feel better.

Things are both better and worse when we remember.

Neither of these things is guaranteed to happen during a run. Sometimes I notice Frisk but never talk to them, sometimes we are aware and terrified of one another, sometimes I don’t notice them at all. Sometimes one or both of us remember when we killed everyone and, depending on how we feel about one another, this can deter or encourage killing. Sometimes we navigate through the Underground so easily we never have to backtrack and sometimes we wander around the Core or parts of Waterfall for a while before we figure out where we are. Sometimes Frisk turns around early for Sans's whoopee-cushion-handshake and he looks at us funny and Frisk becomes as wary of Sans as I always, always am even though half the time I don’t know why.

Sometimes I am deliberately unrestingly downright atrocious to Frisk, but let’s not talk about that right now.

 

* * *

 

They hadn’t lied about the food or drink. Between that and sleep and getting to clean up, I was fully healed in what I estimated to be about two days. Asriel talked at me for the majority of my waking hours and – since I was in his bed – slept next to me at night. We were pretty much the same age (I was older by a matter of weeks, which made him pout) and we were both small, so we fit easily. I had never slept next to anyone else in my life. It was... warm. Because of his fur.

On the second day, I ventured out into the rest of the house. I waited in Asriel’s doorway, head cocked to one side to make sure I couldn’t hear anyone other than Toriel or Asgore. They had both been... okay, for adults. Asriel, impatient, bounced around me and grabbed my hand. “Come on! I can’t wait to show you—”

I reflexively yanked my hand back and turned my body to the side. A hurt expression slid across his face, then disappointment, then shame.

“Sorry,” I said automatically. “You just... startled me.”

Startled was a good word. (A much better word than scared)

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” he replied mournfully. “Mom told me to... um, to ask you before I touch you. I forgot to ask, but I won’t forget again, I promise.”

My blood turned to ice. My arms itched, so I stuck my left hand up the right sleeve of my borrowed sweater and scratched. Asriel and I were close to the same size (I was a little taller) and he had been bafflingly excited about the prospect of sharing clothes. And telling me about his home. And showing me around. Whenever I had sensed he was about to ask me a question about the surface or other humans or anything else I’d like to forget, I’d promptly asked another question about monsters or magic and the places he half-carried me through or anything that had gotten him to talk long enough he had forgotten his own question.

I sensed another question coming now, so I blurted out, “Why are you so happy to have me around?”

It was meant as a distraction, but I did want to know. It was unfamiliar.

He cocked his head to one side. Shit, his ears were cute. Offensively cute. I kind of wanted to pull on one, but I knew that urge was weird and disturbing.

He reached up and pulled one halfway across his face. “I, um,” he said, at which point I realized he was self-conscious. “I... don’t really have any close friends. I mean, I know everyone in my class at school, but they, um... I’m not close with any of them. And I thought we could be friends? If you want?”

What? Asriel was the kindest person I had ever met (not that he had much competition). He went out of his way to help me when I was injured when all I expected from the presence of another person was more pain. How does he not have friends?

I knew I had to respond quickly, because his expression was starting to look a little pinched. “I’ve... never had friends either,” I told him, and to keep him from asking questions about that, I added, “I – I don’t really know _how_ to be friends, so I might be bad at it, but – but if you want to be friends, I would... like that. I’d like to try.”

He beamed at me. I was honestly shocked by it, by how easily he smiled and how... how _good_ he was at it. Then I remembered oh I’m supposed to smile too so I gave him something quick, fake, even though I felt like maybe my face had wanted to smile back and I didn’t know how to let it.

Asriel proceeded with a tour of the house. He was even allowed in his parents’ rooms, though he mentioned he wasn’t allowed to play in either space. We found his mother in the kitchen.

“Hi Mom!” Asriel chirped. He stood on his tip toes, trying to see over the top of the counter. “What are you making?”

“Hello, you two,” she replied. “I’m making dessert for tonight.” She turned around fully, gave me a soft smile. “It is good to see you out of bed. How are you feeling?”

After two days, I was beginning to learn that was a sincere question and avoiding it would elicit what I perceived to be sincere concern, unless I was bad at reading people, which seemed likely because I wasn’t particularly good at anything at all. “I feel a lot better,” I said, because it was true and that answer would provoke fewer questions than _I feel like I lost my knife can I go look for it._

“I’m happy to hear it,” Toriel said. “Would you be up for seeing the garden? If not, we can go another day.”

I’d instantly perked up at the word garden – I had never done any serious gardening, but some of my former neighbors had gardens large enough to make great hiding spots. But there was something in her voice – something apprehensive, and I hated apprehension.

“How far is it?” I asked. The real question was _will we run into anyone else_ but I was already afraid of what Toriel had figured out and I didn’t want her to come to the correct conclusions.

“It’s not far,” Asriel said eagerly. “Dad should be there already.”

I thought I would be okay if I stayed with Asriel, and anyway it was probably a good idea to at least try to please these people. Anyone was more unpleasant when they were displeased, and for once I had no expectations of what that potential unpleasantness might entail.

“Alright,” I said hesitantly. “If – if it’s not far.”

 

* * *

 

No matter what we remember or do not remember, dying is hard.

I always remember my death by buttercups and death by Asriel’s death (even though I never want to). Our memory of Frisk’s deaths is variable.

If neither us remembers or we aren’t on good terms or we can’t communicate or we’re scared or I’m horrible or any combination thereof, Frisk’s terror and despair during their first death is fucking agonizing, even when I haven’t felt anything from them before that, even when I hate them. Oftentimes, coming back scares the shit out of them nearly as much as dying and they do their best to avoid a second death because they do not know what is happening. Even if I don’t remember all of Frisk’s deaths, I have my own to remember and two suicide attempts should tell you how I feel about death, so.

If Frisk and I figure out how to talk to one another and we get along and I’m not a total jackass (even though I’m still bad, I know I could be a lot worse), Frisk still has fear during their first death, but they tend to accept their abilities after I confirm that I shared the experience with them. Even when it happens under the best of circumstances, dying is still physically painful. It still hurts to get your SOUL bashed on and cut and stabbed and thrown around and split apart. It still hurts to bruise and bleed.

Eventually I start to notice a pattern in Frisk’s behavior. Death is one thing. We don’t always remember, so it can be utterly unfamiliar to Frisk. Injuries are another story entirely. Frisk is about my age, maybe a bit older or younger (it’s unclear, for some reason), but they almost never cry or even worry over an injury. When we are in Snowdin or the forest, they stop and scoop snow onto cuts or bruises to slow bleeding and reduce swelling. They keep freshly-bleeding wounds out of the water in Waterfall. Once, when they accidentally cut their hand _deep_ , they grab their injured hand with their uninjured one and stick both arms straight up until the wound has mostly clotted, at which point I tell them to go find some food _now_.

Frisk knows how to take care of their injuries, which suggests they had to do so Before they Fell. I don’t ask and Frisk never says anything about their past. I don’t try to force my way into their thoughts or memories, either (I’m not sure I could, but I’m not sure I couldn’t), even when I hate them and I’m torturing them their every step. Even when I’m like that, I don’t want to know.

 

* * *

 

We didn’t actually run into anyone on the way to the garden, but I did see a few other monsters, farther away, going about their business. I still grabbed Asriel’s hand because I felt fucking naked without my knife and he was the next-best thing available.

We passed a sign that proclaimed “THRONE ROOM” and then I became confused when Toriel turned into the giant doorway by the sign. Was the garden in there?

Toriel paused, then turned to us. “Wait here for a moment, children,” she said before disappearing into the throne room.

I tried to step forward to look inside, but Asriel’s grip tightened on my hand. When I glanced at him, he looked anxious. “Why isn’t there a door?” I asked, because that was better than asking him what was bothering him. I thought. Maybe. I didn’t know, but I was afraid I wouldn’t understand his answer if I asked.

“Doors are for keeping people out,” he responded automatically. He lifted his free hand to touch one of his ears. Two days with him and I already knew that meant he was nervous.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t, so I said, “You never mentioned you had a monarchy.” Unsaid is _you wanted to tell me about everything down here, so why not that?_

He bit his lip. “Um. That’s... well.”

That was a shitty answer, but before I could point this out he stepped forward, leading me to stand in front of the open doorway.

I first noticed the flowers. They were gorgeous and colorful and well-kept and thriving and _perfect_. And, most importantly, just seeing them made me feel safe and

And then I noticed the thrones in the center of the garden and Toriel and Asgore talking next to them. Their voices were so quiet I couldn’t hear them at all, but even if I could I wouldn’t be eavesdropping because I could see Asgore and he had on a cape and armor and a _crown_

Absurdly, there was a watering can in his hands, but by the time I noticed that my brain had shut off.

I turned to Asriel. I was completely unaware of what expression was on my face.

“Please don’t be weird about this,” he whisper-blurted. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not.”

A big deal? A _big deal_? His family was fucking ROYALTY. What the hell were they doing taking care of someone like me?

“You’re... you’re a prince,” I managed to get out and then I realized I should not have been touching him, he was a prince, royalty, and I tried to pull my hand away but he held on and my brain wanted me to HIT HIM KNOCK HIM DOWN TO GET A HEAD START RUNRUNRUN—

He cringed like I had called him something hurtful. “It doesn’t matter,” he insisted. “It’s just—”

“Of course it _matters_.” Brain was back. Oh wait. No it wasn’t. “ _How_ could you not tell me this?”

He looked upset. Oh great. I was dead. I had upset a prince. _The_ prince. “Remember how I said I didn’t have any friends?” he said. To my growing mortification, his eyes teared up. Holy SHIT. “That’s because all the kids in my class are weird about... about me being a prince. They’re nice, b-but – everyone’s so distant and formal most of the time it makes it hard to get close to anyone and I thought if I made friends with you before you found out it wouldn’t matter. I don’t want it to matter so much.”

What the hell was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to say something comforting? I didn’t know anything to say and the only person I had ever tried to calm down was myself and I had always been shit at _that_.

“But...” Apparently my subtle tugging wasn’t getting the message across, so I took a step back and pulled harder – and he finally let me go. “You...”

He was definitely about to cry and I was about to tell him someone important like him should have nothing to do with me, but if he wanted to be friends, was I _allowed_ to say no? His parents – were the king and queen. They could literally do anything they wanted, right? True, they had been bizarrely kind to me, so far, but I hadn’t been doing much over the past two days, so I hadn’t had much of a chance to piss any of them off (not that my mere existence in their home wasn’t a blight, even if they were pretending it wasn’t).

I had no clue what to do because I’d had very few interactions with those who might be called _peers_ and _this_ , this someone else apparently wanting my company for reasons that weren’t

So was not going there, not right now, not about to get caught in the bear trap that was my brain, not when Asriel was looking increasingly miserable and crushed and he’d been nothing but nice to me and yeah, maybe he was a little overenthusiastic but I was new and that was obviously the reason and he’d saved me when that was the last thing I expected and I owed him for that, didn’t I?

Before I could say anything else, Toriel beckoned us from the garden (THRONE ROOM). “Come here, children. Chara, we have something to show you.”

Um. Was I supposed to... bow, or something? But Toriel did say to call them by their names earlier. So... keep following the first order until a later order overrode it, right?

Asriel turned so his parents couldn’t see and scrubbed his sleeve across his eyes. He waited a beat before following me.

I regretted pulling away from Asriel. I couldn’t quite look his parents in the eye the way I could him. They were... so much taller than me. So much taller than _every_ human adult (it would be easy for them to crush a human, any human)

I looked at them questioningly, hoping that would suffice. Asgore waited until Asriel dragged his feet into place beside me, then gestured with a hand. “Come this way, please.”

His tone was serious, grave, and for a moment I froze. Was I in trouble? I racked my brain for memories of the past two days, trying to figure out what I had done wrong. I couldn’t think of anything aside from imposing on them, which, of course, was bad, but they were so good about it I thought they were tolerating it, and maybe I thought they would let it slide because Asriel seemed to like me so much.

I walked automatically, following Toriel and Asgore through another doorless doorway in the back of the garden (throne room, it was a fucking throne room and why the hell did the prince feel the need to rescue me), Asriel lagging behind me. What if I was unaware of what I had done wrong? For all he had told me, Asriel hadn’t said anything along the lines of _don’t do that that’s offensive to monsters_ so I assumed I hadn’t done anything like that, but what if I had and he just hadn’t said anything? What then? How had I fucked up, what...

What...

was that?

Something shimmered in front of us. It was monotone and opaque, even though the way white and black and varying shades of grey danced across the surface made it seem like it should have been transparent. It was everywhere, even above our heads and under our feet.

“This is the barrier,” Asgore said solemnly. “When we lost the war, the humans used this to lock us in the Underground.”

Oh. _Oh_.

This was the way out. I was better, and they hadn’t even been obligated to make sure I recovered. It was time for me to go. I was a human, so I could leave, and they expected me to leave.

I wished I were surprised by this.

Asgore cleared his throat and looked away. Toriel picked up in his silence. “Anything can enter the Underground through the barrier, child. But nothing can leave. We are so, so sorry, but there is no way for you to return home.”

Wait

what?

This was a joke, right? A cruel joke. But... they hadn’t been cruel to me yet. And Asriel’s behavior indicated he thought I would be sticking around, which was consistent with my supposed inability to leave.

But... if that were true, that would be...

“Do you mean that?” My voice came out raspy. Horrifyingly, I felt a lump in my throat, and it didn’t go away when I swallowed. Still, I demanded, “Do you – do you promise I don’t have to go back? _Ever_?”

Asgore and Toriel exchanged a glance. Toriel looked and sounded very sad when she spoke. “There is no way for you to go to the surface, Chara. That is the truth.”

“So, yes. We promise,” Asgore added. His eyes were bright. He moved his hands, and I got the feeling that he had wanted to touch my head but had stopped himself. Well, if Toriel had told Asriel not to touch me without asking, she had probably told Asgore about how fucked up I was. “We will take care of you as best we can.”

Wha—

“So... I can stay here? With all of you?” I asked way, way too quickly. I flushed when I realized what he actually meant. He meant that they’d get me set up someplace else; there was no way I’d actually be living with the royal family—

“For as long as you want,” Toriel replied gently. “Is that what you want?”

I still wasn’t used to these questions that were actually questions. The questions I was used to had scripted answers and if you were stupid and didn’t choose the right one, you got in trouble.

I couldn’t talk because I was going to cry if I opened my mouth, but I nodded. Then I moved around Asgore and held both hands out. When I leaned into the barrier, white and grey rippled outward from where my hands contacted it. It felt... strange, but still had the unyielding and solid qualities that made walls _walls_. I wasn’t getting through that. Nothing was. I stepped back, watching the touch-induced ripples as they coursed outward and faded.

I nodded again. And again. Again. I kept nodding and tears were streaking down my cheeks and fuck I didn’t mean to do that—

Toriel bent down and raised a hand and I stepped away from her, stiffening, turning to one side. Towards Asriel, as it happened. I reached for him instead.

Even though I had just been a jerk to him, he immediately came to me and wrapped his arms around me. His parents both made little sappy adoring noises that they each tried and failed to smother.

Was I doing this right? I couldn’t remember the last time I hugged anyone. He was so fucking fluffy it wasn’t fair.

“You were right,” I whispered in one of his stupid fluffy ears. “I was being an idiot earlier. It doesn’t matter.”

He squeezed me really hard and that kind of hurt (how was this little fluffball so _strong_ ) and I knew it was the right thing to say.

 

* * *

 

I’m making it sound traumatizing. It is. Sometimes. But it isn’t _all_ bad.

“*Lesser Dog appears,” I tell Frisk. After a nudge, I roll my eyes and say, “*Wields a stone dagger made of pomer-granite.”

Frisk giggles and pets Lesser Dog. Or, they go to, but...

“*You barely lifted your hand and Lesser Dog got excited.” I have taken to talking to them nearly every opportunity they provide. It keeps them calm. And sometimes I wish Frisk could see the look on my face when they do something dumb and I’m judging them so hard, but they can’t. Even though they can sense my feelings (their feelings to me is a connection that isn’t quite as strong, perhaps because Frisk has better control over their emotions than I do), I make sure to sass them as often as possible because it’s important that they get their hourly dose of sarcasm. Sarcasm went right over Asriel’s head half the time, but Frisk is much more attuned to my (twisted) sense of humor.

Determined as ever, Frisk goes to pet Lesser Dog again. “*You lightly touched the Dog,” I say. “*It’s already overexcited...”

And Lesser Dog’s neck keeps extending, and extending, and...

“*You pet the Dog. It was a good Dog.”

Frisk, you can spare it now. Why don’t you?

In some dark corner of my mind, I’m worried that Frisk is going to kill it suddenly. It’s happened before. This time we both remembered before we got out of the Ruins.

_I’m petting the dog,_ Frisk replies happily. _I like petting the dog._

You gonna stop anytime soon? I don’t know how many more hilarious dog-related quips I’ve got.

I can _sense_ them shoot me a smirk. _Then you’d better think fast, Chara._

Was that a challenge?

_YES. YES IT WAS._

Sometimes they like to troll me. “*Lesser Dog is overstimulated,” I inform Frisk. Heedless, they pet Lesser Dog once more. “*Critical pet! Dog excitement increased!”

Lesser Dog begins to make strange not-doggy noises that only support my assertions of its overstimulation. “*There is no way to stop this madness,” I say dramatically, making Frisk giggle again.

(I might like it when they laugh)

“*It’s possible that you may have a problem,” I announce some time later, and when Frisk keeps going, grinning like an idiot the whole time, “*Perhaps mankind was not meant to pet this much,” and, “*Lesser Dog is questioning your choices.”

What really has them laughing aloud, though, is, “*Lesser Dog has gone where no Dog has gone before.”

...

It’s nice.

The dog has fun, too.

 

* * *

 

Because of my presence, Asgore and Toriel had allowed Asriel to stay home from school for a few days. Once it became clear that I had recovered and that I was no longer terrified of _everything_ (because I had been at first, as much as I hated admitting it), his impromptu vacation ended.

Without him around, my brain immediately tanked and tried to drag me down. Before I Fell, I had loved solitude. Being alone had meant... being alone had meant my pain was under my control. I didn’t know what the hell my mind was doing, but it didn’t do it as often if I was busy.

The first couple of days, both Asgore and Toriel stayed with me and the attention felt almost smothering, but I figured out pretty fucking quickly I couldn’t be by myself so I endured it.

“Perhaps you can eventually attend school with Asriel,” Toriel commented on my third day Underground. “Although I presume human curricula differ from ours. I would have to evaluate your current knowledge and educate you individually until you catch up with the other students your age.”

She sounded like she would enjoy this. I had stiffened at the word _school_ , but... if she was teaching just me for a while, it couldn’t be too bad. Even if I knew I would disappoint her.

I hesitated, but opened my mouth anyway. “I... know humans don’t teach anything about monsters. So... I don’t know anything about your history, aside from what Asriel mentioned.”

She smiled at me. “Perhaps we should start with that, then.”

Toriel let me in the kitchen while she cooked and even let me help. She asked what kind of foods I liked and I stopped and stared into space for three seconds before coming back and telling her I had a sweet tooth. She was impressed with how quickly I was able to pick some stuff up and how steady my hands were when I poured or measured or chopped ingredients. When she asked if I had done this before I said, “Occasionally,” and didn’t expand on just how often _occasionally_ was. She let me sit next to the fireplace and read, too, while she sat in her chair. At first, she directed my attention towards the bookshelf in Asriel’s room – kid stuff – but I gravitated towards the heavier books next to the fireplace.

Sometimes, Toriel sat down with a massive handwritten book full of numbers or blank pieces of paper that she soon filled with writing. I didn’t know _exactly_ what it was, but it was clear it was Official Kingdom Business Stuff and that I shouldn’t bother her while she was working on it. The first time that stuff came out, she walked me to the garden-throne room.

“It’s largely logistics and such,” she said when I asked. “I have more of a head for numbers than Asgore does.”

Asgore spent at least several hours a day in the throne room. When we got there, he was tending to the garden and seemed quite happy to see us. Toriel returned to New Home to deal with the logistics and Asgore showed me how to weed and water properly and told me all the different names of the flowers. He hummed while he worked and after a while I forgot about how big he was and how quietly he could move and to not turn my back on him while I worked.

I liked working with my hands and doing things that required focus. With a busy brain and hands my arms didn’t itch so much and I didn’t wonder what had happened to my knife and I didn’t feel so _aware_ of everything.

All of this did not apply when we weren’t alone. I quickly discovered that the reason Asgore went with the king regalia while he gardened was because this was when he held audiences with his subjects. This was still the throne room, after all.

The first time I didn’t even notice the monster until Asgore called out a greeting and I dove behind the tulips and quickly got my back to a wall – no one could sneak up on me, but I was far away from the corners of the room, the stupidest thing you could do was to corner _yourself_ – and scoped out the situation.

The new monster was tiny compared to Asgore. They might actually be smaller than me. But they had _wings_ , and their feet were dangling right at my eye level. Before they could see me, I worked my way along the wall until the thrones in the center of the room blocked them from my line of sight. I ducked behind flower beds and only crossed between them when I was sure the new monster and Asgore couldn’t see me. I was worried that if the king spotted me, he’d call me over for introductions and that seemed thoroughly unnecessary and nauseating.

Asgore chatted companionably with the monster while I crouched behind a small bed of buttercups. I hugged my knees but kept on the balls of my feet, forcing myself to breathe quietly. I was fine. Perfectly fine.

I shifted, silently pushed a sleeve up, and slowly scratched my forearm. Better. The slight pain gave me something to focus on so my senses didn’t feel so overwhelmed.

After the monster left, I heard Asgore call, “Chara? Where are you?”

I didn’t want to make him mad, so I came out once I pulled my sleeve down and checked to make sure no one else was in the room. He looked confused until he saw me, which made me remember to force my expression into neutrality. What had I been broadcasting?

I stopped a little ways away from him. “Chara, are you shy, child?” Asgore asked in a manner that suggested he already knew what my answer would be.

Shy? I didn’t think that was the right word. I didn’t know what the right word for me was. But I didn’t enjoy meeting new people, and that was a characteristic of shy people, right?

I nodded, not looking at him, rubbing some dirt between my fingers. “Will... that be happening often?” I asked. My mouth felt a little dry. “People coming in here, I mean.”

“Yes,” he replied, speaking somewhat slowly. “When people have problems that I might be able to solve, it is important that they are able to bring them to my attention. There are also many people who work for me and report to me, and I need to be available to them in case they have completed a project or they require direction or advice. The exact number of visitors vary, but I usually see several people here a day. I promise not one of them would do anything to intentionally hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. If you do not wish to talk to anyone, that’s alright, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide.”

His explanation made sense, given his title. It was his promise I was having trouble digesting.

When I didn’t say anything, he continued with, “If you would rather stay inside, that is okay too—”

“No,” I said before I could process a damn thing. “I like the garden, I like working here, I—”

I’d just interrupted him. I slapped my hands over my mouth and took two quick steps back. Oh shit. Shit. He was between me and the door to the road and I couldn’t run towards the barrier, I would be trapped—

First Asgore looked bewildered, then understanding again. “Chara, please calm down,” he said so, so softly and I was so unused to anyone talking to me like that. His mouth quirked up into a smile. “I am happy to hear you like gardening. Toriel and Asriel are not quite as enthusiastic about it as I am. I would love for you to be able to come out here however often you want, but I want you to feel safe doing so.”

“I’m – a human.” It came out in a squeak. “All those monsters...”

(Should have been terrified of me, I was a human and humans were terrible, violently gluttonous creatures)

When I trailed off, he said, “You know, we put out an announcement about you in order to keep everyone informed. We were at war with humanity, after all, even though that was a very long time ago, and we wanted everyone to know that you are not an enemy. The response we have seen thus far has been overwhelmingly curious, so I cannot promise you won’t be stared at or approached, although we can remove you from a situation like that if it makes you uncomfortable. But many people saw Asriel bring you to New Home. You’d probably be surprised at the number of them who have enquired after your well-being, since it was obvious you were injured.”

“R-really?” He was right. I was surprised.

“Yes. They were relieved to hear you were going to recover.” He hesitated visibly. “Chara, I would... like to ask you a question, but know that you do not have to answer, if you do not want to.”

Fuck. Now that I had access to actual choices, I had no idea how to choose. I was slow at it. I was probably bad at it.

I nodded because it seemed as if he wouldn’t proceed without some sort of acknowledgement on my part.

“I wanted to ask why you seem to be so wary of others.” His tone was gentle, which was still so odd to me it had me questioning whether I had heard him correctly. “Perhaps if we knew why, we might be able to help you overcome it. It can’t be an easy thing, fearing everyone around you.”

I knew I should have denied it, claimed I was shy and not scared (shy was a better word than scared, even if it wasn’t as true), but my jaw locked up and it wasn’t just my jaw, it was the rest of my body too and I couldn’t have moved even if I tried. I felt like I might have been fading in and out, one moment so attuned to everything that my heart was too loud and the flowers too colorful and fragrant and the next I was barely there, could barely see and hear and smell what was around me, staring over the edge, about to—

“It’s okay,” Asgore finally said, releasing me from my trance, slamming me back into my _(uselessly weak)_ body. My arms itched again. “Don’t feel like you have to say anything. I understand.”

My throat burnt but he didn’t... look disappointed, though maybe I was reading him wrong. He didn’t sound disappointed, either, but he’d asked me to do something, and I hadn’t done it. That warranted disappointment, right? If not anger (or, or—)

He gestured towards a patch of flowers we had ignored so far. Roses. “Would you like to learn how to tend to plants with thorns?” he asked. “It takes a little more caution, but I think you’re more than capable.”

Busy hands and brain. That would work. Caution would require even more attention and take my mind off how fucking knotted my muscles were. I nodded.

When we approached the roses, I said, “Sorry,” in a tiny, tiny voice because I couldn’t let more out.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said quite firmly, and I knew I had read him correctly earlier. Then, more sheepishly, “And – er – don’t tell Toriel I let you touch the roses until we get you a good pair of gloves. She’ll have my horns if she finds out.”

 

* * *

 

Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m in Frisk’s head at all. Sometimes I feel like I have my own body, but... not quite.

I suppose it is most accurate to call me a ghost or a spirit when I am like this, but when I hear the word _ghost_ I think of monsters that are ghosts, not deceased(?) humans, so those aren’t the right words, either. But they are close enough for you, and I approve of you using them as long as you make that distinction.

Even though I feel like I have my own semi-physical self, I am still connected to Frisk. I still die when they die, still return when they return, still SAVE and LOAD and RESET when they do, although it’s unclear as to who, exactly, is doing this. Frisk and I and you are all involved. I can’t tell whether it is one of us or all of us or a combination of us.

What is most interesting about these timelines is that Frisk is the only one who can interact with me. They don’t speak aloud very much (sometimes they even require prompting from me to speak), so nobody ever sees them talking to someone nobody else can see or hear, but people do notice them looking at me occasionally. Sans does almost immediately, which is creepy and makes me think he might be able to see me, too, so I behave as if I am corporeal and visible around him, which is to say I hide from him. Sometimes I hide in Frisk’s head and I’m able to switch between being a ghost and sitting in their mind the way I think I usually do.

None of this changes the way in which Frisk interacts with me (if I am not being a human jackass). They still poke around as much as possible, partially out of curiosity and partially to see what witticisms I see fit to bestow upon our environment.

The thing about Frisk seeing me is that they can _see me_. My ghostliness retained my original appearance for some stupid, awful reason, so naturally Frisk looks at me and says, _Hey! We look pretty similar!_ and then they proceed to make comparisons (I win because I’m taller, even if I hate everything else).

This does not help when they decide to be idiotically flirty. If they’ve never seen me and they do something dumb like call me cute, I immediately invalidate their comment by pointing out they have no idea what I look like. When I’m a ghostie, they _do_ know what I look like and – well. Frisk will flirt with Moldsmal, what the hell do you expect?

It doesn’t embarrass me, though. I’m not the one who’s flirting, so why should it?

I said it DOESN’T embarrass me, Frisk.

_Then that’s—_

NO, that’s NOT another reason to do it, Frisk! Seriously, I WILL punch us in the mouth! I have before.

_You could use your lips instead of your fist._

It’s YOUR fist, Frisk, and SHUT UP!

 

* * *

 

Asriel whined when his parents told him it was time for him to go back to school. When he started, I tensed, wanting to grab him and tell him to shut up, but I was too afraid.

I guess I expected one of his parents to get impatient and hit him or yell at him. I knew that wasn’t rational, given what I had seen of their behavior so far, but I still expected it. His parents bore the complaining much longer than what I thought even nice parents might put up with. Asgore actually looked like he was going to cave and tell Asriel he could stay home with me one more day, but before he could say anything Toriel adopted a no-nonsense tone and told Asriel he was going back to school, more arguing would result in the surrender of dessert privileges for a few days, and I was certainly going to be here when he got home so he needn’t worry.

The cue could not have been more obvious than that, so I said, “We can see each other when you get home, Asriel. I’ll be here.”

He looked absolutely pitiful. His faced moved _so much_. It was kind of ridiculous. “But Mom and Dad will be busy, so you’ll basically be by yourself! You need someone to keep you company!”

It never failed to take me by surprise, how inhumanly unselfish he was. Maybe that was just it. Maybe monsters were just not as selfish as humans. That was... entirely unsurprising.

“Being alone is nice sometimes,” I told Asriel, because who the fuck doesn’t like dessert. “I’ve, um, always been kind of a loner. I’ll be okay until you get home.”

Asriel sulked a little, but didn’t argue anymore. I wanted to say something before we went to bed (I had one of my own now, it hadn’t taken long for Asgore to get it inside and set it up, what with his size). I wanted to, but all I could come up with were variations of _it might be good to spend some time apart because I like you but you’ve sort of been smothering me and I want to keep liking you but not too much because if I let you get too close I’ll ruin or corrupt you because I’m human and humans are shit and—_

So I ended up not saying anything at all.

He was just... so nice to me. And not nice in the way that some people were nice because they wanted something from you and then they hurt you when they didn’t get it. All Asriel seemed to want was friendship, and even though I told myself repeatedly that he’d only latched onto me due to circumstance and that once he made a real friend (a friend worthy of him, not some terrible human) he’d forget about me, day after day after day he provided evidence to the contrary.

Barring the deep sleep that helped to heal my injuries, I slept lightly at first, waking at the slightest noise, be it a door closing quietly elsewhere in the house or Asriel turning over in his sleep. On the surface, I’d lost count of how many times I’d jolted awake in the middle of the night, rolled off my bed and then under it and waited there, silent, until my door inevitably opened and closed and I was left alone because human adults were fucking lazy and if I made myself anything but easy prey, nobody would search for me. I had been caught sleeping, in the past, but it only took a couple of times before I had made damn sure I would wake up if someone was approaching my door, and only one time after that before I knew that hiding under the covers didn’t fucking work.

After nights of waking up repeatedly and not needing to hide or somehow defend myself, my body learned to sleep through the night. I still woke up feeling exhausted but also on high alert, just because... well, I guessed I was almost always paying that much attention to who and what was around me. A week slithered by and I started crashing, sleeping ten or twelve hours at a time and not waking up once. I even stopped jumping when Toriel came in and gently woke me up. She and Asgore let me sleep in, for whatever reason, hours after Asriel had left. It did, however, pain Toriel to allow me to miss breakfast and she would not let me sleep through lunch. It still felt weird, to have someone feeding me, but I thought I liked it? No, I definitely liked it. The food was good.

I didn’t start having nightmares until the third week.

I dreamt I’d heard something and reflexively went to hide under my bed. But I rolled into something. I put my hands on it, trying to figure out what it was. The wall? But the wall wasn’t on that side of my bed, it was on the other side—

Too late. I’d been spotted and I’d idiotically trapped myself against the wall and I couldn’t move, I was too weak and I would break my knuckles if I hit the wall and I’d get something broken if I swung the other way and it was too late, so I should just stay still, I was less interesting that way, I’d get less hurt that way, even though I wanted to kick and scream and make everybody else hurt for once and then maybe I could spend the rest of the night in the linen closet because it was softer in there and because I had never been found in there, it was still safe—

I was awake and whimpering. “Chara?” Asriel asked sleepily. He’d turned the lamp on. “Are you okay?”

I clamped down on all the sounds inside me. I wanted to hide under the bed, but upon waking I’d instantly scanned my environment and found only Asriel, so I just curled in on myself.

“Chara?” Fabric shifting, a thump, soft footsteps. I burrowed into the blankets. I hadn’t meant to wake him up.

“Chara, are you okay?” More worried now.

I lifted my head, turned towards him. He was right at the edge of my bed, watching me anxiously. I gave him a fake smile and nodded—

He let out a quiet gasp. “You’re crying. Did you have a bad dream?”

I yanked a hand out from under the covers and touched my face. It came away wet. Shit—

Asriel’s arms were around my shoulders. The side of his head was touching mine, one of his ears sticking to my tear-streaked face. I knew he meant it to be comforting and he was gentle and warm and not squeezing too hard or anything but it – it _hurt_ and my heart beat frantically, sprouting wings, bashing into my ribs and all my other organs trying to get out and poking holes in my lungs because suddenly it was so hard to _breathe_ —

I was crouched back against the wall, arms out. I had shoved Asriel off me and he had stumbled back but not fallen and was now staring at me, expression a mixture of shock and hurt before settling into guilt.

“I forgot again,” he said miserably. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t ask.”

I stared at him. I was taller than him, but he was bigger than me, even without taking all his floof into account. Not for the first time, I wondered what kind of noises he would make if I twisted his arm (I knew what would come out of me if someone did that to me)

No no NO. That was, it was wrong and I wouldn’t do it, I knew I was bad because I was human but I couldn’t give in, not while I was in this perfect place that was perfect precisely because there weren’t any other humans here—

Asriel twisted his fingers with the other hand. “Would you like it if I... read to you?” he asked. He sounded clueless. He didn’t know if anything other than hugs could be comforting, but I swore if he touched me again I was – I would explode, I’d start screaming and be unable to stop—

I nodded. He smiled tentatively and went to retrieve a book. I settled back into bed and patted the empty space next to me when he returned. When he climbed in, I scooted away from him, just a little, but he didn’t say anything.

He started to read. He didn’t try to touch me again. He... had a nice voice. It was calming.

 

* * *

 

Once, in Waterfall, we happen upon a grey door I do not recognize.

Frisk, feeling my confusion, pushes it open carefully. They are much less cautious when they sense that I know our environment. They trust me and my memories. I don’t trust my stupid brain, not at all, but almost all my memories of the Underground feel... normal (by that I mean they don’t have fangs and claws and an insatiable appetite for my blood)

Inside is... something. Someone?

Have I met this person before?

They (He?) vanish as soon as Frisk attempts to interact with them.

 

* * *

 

I had nightmares for maybe a month. Toriel and Asgore didn’t find out until two weeks in.

Most of the time, I tried to just lie there and cry quietly. I didn’t want to wake up Asriel. It didn’t take long for him to understand that there was ABSOLUTELY NO TOUCHING after I came out of it. He would always read to me and I would always let him because if I didn’t he would just stand there, twisting his fingers or clasping his hands, anguished over my nightmares and yes, a little hurt that I found his touch downright painful after these episodes.

It wasn’t his fault that his parents found out. Really. I’d kept him up five nights in a row and we were both clearly exhausted at dinner, except my exhaustion came with the terror of sleep so I would often sit there, wide-eyed, staring into space, adrenaline intermittently spiking and tanking several times an hour.

Toriel commented on our tiredness. Asriel, half-asleep, mumbled, “Chara had another nightmare last night,” in explanation, then bolted upright in his chair and stammered, “I mean – I mean—”

I’d asked him not to tell, but I couldn’t blame him for that when it was so clearly unintentional and his mouth had escaped his attention because I’d been keeping him sleep-deprived, which made it my fault.

Toriel’s eyebrows knitted together in what was her I’m-concerned-but-I-don’t-have-enough-information face. “Another nightmare?” Asgore questioned, and then it wasn’t like they were going to let us not answer, so.

They both asked if there was anything they could do, if we wanted a nightlight or if I wanted to sleep with either of them for a while (which got a vicious head-shake from me, so nobody suggested it ever again). They both promised I could come wake either of them up if the nightmares continued. I could tell they were not happy with this solution, but it was because they wanted to do _more_ for me, not less, and that – that was still unfamiliar and I wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, even though I wanted to be.

At that point, Toriel had been teaching me for a few days. I honestly enjoyed it because almost everything about monsters was interesting to me and I could tell she liked teaching me, which was unexpected.

But the day after they found out about the nightmares, Toriel began my lessons by saying, “Chara, I have a question for you.”

Her tone was far, far too serious. I felt my body tense, my awareness widen, I identified every escape route, every hiding place—

No, I didn’t have to think like that anymore. I _knew_ that. I knew it but I couldn’t stop.

“What are your nightmares about, child?”

Nope. No way. If I didn’t think about it, it would go away eventually. Right? All that _shit_ —

“Chara, we all want to help you with this,” Toriel continued, simultaneously firm and gentle. “We are all so happy to have you here and we want you to be happy here, too. Though that seemed inevitable when you made it clear you do not wish to return to the surface.” She sighed. “I... don’t know exactly what happened to you up there, but...”

I was sure my blood was frozen. I wanted to cut myself open to see if I would get a breath of steam off the ice in my veins. Just cutting myself would probably be enough, no matter what nasty human gunk comes out—

Toriel seemed to be struggling for words. That had never happened with her before. “You are safe now,” she said finally, with an edge that made me believe she would hurt anyone who attempted to disprove that statement. “It is so important that you realize that. I understand you have retained habits from when you weren’t safe, and we hope very much that those will eventually fade away, but you may still find yourself bothered by bad memories. If you ever want to discuss them, know that we are all available to listen to you.”

I shook my head immediately. She knew I was human, she knew humans were bad. She’d told me all about the war, so she had to know we were awful, selfish creatures. So why couldn’t she figure out that if I thought about the surface and other humans I would go bad, too?

But she didn’t know that I occasionally had thoughts about doing the hurting, for once. Usually it was me. Sometimes I thought about hurting Asriel, but that always left me nauseous. I almost never thought about hurting Toriel or Asgore, but that was simply because I knew I couldn’t. They were adults, they were bigger than me, and size _fucking_ mattered when it came to a physical confrontation. It wasn’t the only thing that mattered, weapons mattered too, so where was my knife—

Toriel sighed again, closing her eyes briefly. “I understand that it is scary for you. I really do believe it would help, but I would not want to push you too hard. Just know that if you ever want to talk about it, even months or years from now, we – all of us, or any one of us – would be happy to listen and to help you sort things out.”

That was the end of this conversation, right? No, not yet. I still hadn’t said anything.

“I’m sorry,” I uttered, sounding dangerously like Asriel did right before he started crying. He cried a lot. Over almost anything. It was... endearing and annoying. And unfamiliar. Allowing anyone else to see me cry was still... I didn’t like it.

She frowned, eyes snapping open. “You have nothing to apologize for, my child. Nothing at all. Now, I planned to take a break from history lessons today. I want to tell you about something a little different.”

Oh, good. It was over. I waited a couple of seconds, refocusing, repressing all the screaming under my skin. I cleared my throat, but my voice still came out raspy. “What is it?”

She gave me a small smile. This was the me that was familiar to her. I liked to learn, so she brought me back out by offering novel and interesting information. I knew she did it deliberately, but that was okay. “You have heard the term _soul_ used in casual conversation, have you not?”

 

* * *

 

Let’s talk about the times when I’m horrid to Frisk.

Sometimes it’s impossible to ignore to storm inside me when I wake up and I realize I’m in another damn human instead of Asriel. I am outraged with this other human for being human and pretending to be good and not being Asriel and I turn my grief over Asriel into even more fury and I don’t know if I have ever been this angry and for me, that’s fucking saying something.

So I tell Frisk things like, You’re inherently evil, you don’t deserve to be friends with these people, and You’re ruining everything just by being here, and Of course you’d kill someone. That’s all humans do. They kill and take and destroy and you’re no different.

This stresses them out, scares them, wears them down. They always kill at least one person when I’m like this and they go through the Underground near tears.

And after they do kill, I am worse, if possible. I remind them constantly of their guilt, I throw their actions in their face, I hypocritically snarl at them to kill _more_ because I can’t hate them if they aren’t actually awful and when I’m like this I need to hate them and most of the time I forget about you because there is just Frisk and I can’t escape from them and they are Frisk and not Asriel because I _should_ have woken up in Asriel’s body because HE NEVER SHOULD HAVE DIED—

...

Sorry.

...

...

I... can’t really do this right now.

Frisk never deserves it. They always start off a little anticipatory and slightly curious and a lot lost. When they start to kill... it’s either my fault or yours. Every time. They are never totally okay with it. They never deserve my... unpleasantness.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk about it. But I can’t do it right now.


	4. You can't regret hard choices your whole life, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some fluff. (It's not all fluff but the fluff is there.)

The nightmares progressed to the occasional night terror. Those scared the shit out of Asriel and my screaming always brought Toriel and Asgore in the room, too, which only disoriented me further when I finally awoke because only Asriel was supposed to be there and then he would read to me until I could finally stand physical contact again and I’d reach out and take his hand and slowly, slowly work my way into snuggling and he was always so patient, letting me decide how we’d touch and for how long and my brain never bothered me after I fell asleep next to him, he was so good he kept all the bad away—

Sometimes I had episodes when I was awake, too, when I was sure I was going to hurt somebody or be humanly horrible and my head felt totally unattached to my body and I felt unattached to my head and my greedy lungs just couldn’t get enough air and—

And the first time this happened, Toriel had assumed I was in pain, and had reached for me with a hand wreathed in healing magic, and – and I’d kept shaking my head no, no, no no no and she’d stopped, wavering, and I had run from her so fast I was under my bed in four seconds flat because I was so fucking wrong that a touch that was _literally_ healing would have hurt me, what was wrong with me, why did this keep happening—

Toriel researched for five minutes, had Asriel coax me out from under the bed, and led me through breathing exercises. They worked, eventually. She quickly educated me on what was happening to me and used it as another opportunity to indirectly edge towards the topic of Before, but I shook my head so hard she stopped. Asriel learned how to count for me and talk me back into my pathetically disjointed body. I always calmed down faster when I was with him. Just him.

After one such incident, he was holding both of my hands in his and everything felt tingly, strange, but my body finally felt like it belonged to me again. I pressed my thumbs into the soft pads on Asriel’s palms. I released one of his hands to scrub my sleeve across my face because I was probably crying. He knew I liked to keep his parents uninvolved. When I had started doing shit like this, he had asked, even before they knew about it, “Do you want me to get Mom or Dad?” and I’d said no, every time.

Now he didn’t ask. He knew how to handle it, he knew I got better faster if it was just him.

“Chara?” he questioned after my breathing decreased in frequency. “Can I hug you?”

He was always hugging his parents and... well, I didn’t get out much, but I figured he just liked hugs. I nodded even though I wasn’t really sure I wanted a hug because I never told him no unless I was really worried I’d hurt him if he touched me. I didn’t feel like I could tell him no, even when his touch made me itch.

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me. We were both sitting down, which made for weird positioning, but I exhaled and pressed my body against his, resting my head on his shoulder. This wasn’t so bad. It was awkward, but finding touch awkward was better than finding it terrifying or painful.

“Chara?” Asriel said quietly. He started rubbing my back, which usually made me pull away, but instead I grabbed two fistfuls of his sweater. “I love you.”

His voice was so, so soft, and I could instantly tell he wasn’t expecting me to say it back. Hell, I’d been here for... this was my sixth week? Seventh? It hadn’t been long at all, but it felt like forever since I’d thought about an excuse for the bruise on my face or slept in the closet so I could get some sleep without having to worry about being found or snuck into the kitchen at four in the morning to get some food or palmed the knife under my pillow and wondered if this, this was going to be the night I’d have to use it _(or wiped blood—)_

I let out a sob into Asriel’s shoulder. “Sorry it took me so long to say it,” he said apologetically. “I should have said it a while ago, but... I know how you are with hugging, and touching, sometimes, and I thought me saying it might make you uncomfortable. Does it? I – I don’t need to say it again if it does—”

“Azzy,” I choked out. “Shut up.”

A pause. He pulled back, just a little, and I reluctantly leaned away when he did. He looked... puzzled. “Did you just call me... Azzy?” he asked.

Oh I fucked up. No surprise there, but why did my timing have to be so shitty? Why couldn’t I do a damn thing right?

My hands had slipped to his arms. His were on my waist. I felt myself flush harshly. “Sorry,” I mumbled, dropping my hands to his wrists and applying the slightest amount of force. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay!” he said hastily. He was getting faster at giving me feedback. This was not the first time I’d apologized for something that he insisted was alright. “I... like it. I’ve never had a nickname before.”

This was – way too much. I was, I wasn’t, I was going to screw this up because I was me and I didn’t _want_ to screw it up but I would because I’d never – been this close with _anyone_ before and I didn’t know how but I knew I was human and Asriel wasn’t and I’d destroy him because I was bad and horrible and human and—

“Say it again?” he requested, mouth quirking into a smile.

He was everything good and light and I was human. But – he just said he loved me. And I knew he liked talking to (at) me, liked playing with me, liked it when I watched him practice magic with his parents, liked just _being_ with me, even when I was struggling for air and freaking out or screaming in my sleep. So...

“Azzy,” I managed to get out. I could tell it pleased him immensely. And – and I felt a little better, seeing him perk up like that.

Words. Mouth. He couldn’t read my mind, I had to speak. “Say it again.”

His smile faltered in confusion. “Huh?”

“Please.” I swallowed. “It... it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. Say it again? Please?”

“Oh!” Just like that, he brightened again. “I love you, Chara.”

My hands were on his arms again. I clung to him for dear life, trying not to bawl. Shit, I was bad at this. I couldn’t even say it back.

Asriel understood, though, and promptly smothered me in another hug.

 

* * *

  

During one run, we end up lucky. You are nice and I am nice. That doesn’t happen very often.

Eventually, Frisk ends up in the home of Undyne (not the Undying. Not this time). And...

“And if HE’s not here to have it... YOU’LL HAVE TO HAVE IT FOR HIM!!!”

Undyne bounds up onto her counter and proceeds to knock everything onto the floor. I marvel at the mess. “That’s right!!!” she exclaims. “NOTHING has brought Papyrus and I closer than cooking! Which means that if I give you his lesson... WE’LL BECOME CLOSER THAN YOU CAN EVER IMAGINE!!!”

Frisk. What. Is happening.

They are just as unsure as I am. _I dunno._

Undyne is ranting again. “Afraid?! We’re gonna be best friends!!!”

Okay, even I know friendship doesn’t work that way, and I’m... me.

Frisk giggle-snorts in the headspace, but the sound is brought to an abrupt halt when Undyne makes an objectively impressive leap over the table, snatches Frisk up with a single hand, and leaps again, planting Frisk firmly in front of the counter. They grip it for a moment, disoriented and startled.

“Let’s start with the sauce!!” Undyne slams a foot into the floor, somehow dislodging several vegetables from somewhere in the ceiling. “Envision these vegetables as your greatest enemy! Now!! Pound them to dust with your fists!!”

Frisk, being Frisk, pets the vegetables in an affectionate manner.

Boo! I call out, just as Undyne shrieks, “OH MY GOD!!! STOP PETTING THE ENEMY!!! I’ll show you how it’s done! NGAHHH!”

She takes a stance, draws back a fist, and slams it forward. Vegetable guts (not Vegetoid, we aren’t on one of _those_ runs) spatter all over the counter, up the wall, and onto Frisk’s face.

Undyne turns to us, face also messy. “Uhh, we’ll just scrape these into a bowl later. But for NOW!”

Another stomp has a pot and a box of noodles drop perfectly onto the stove. I desperately want to know how she does that.

Frisk follows Undyne, wiping their face onto their sleeve. _Chara, help me,_ they whine.

I’m loath to admit it, but I’m kind of having fun. Undyne’s kind of cool. When she’s not trying to skewer Frisk with an energy spear. Come on, Frisk, I say. It can be fun to let go and through caution to the wind. Just look at Undyne! She just busted several of her own belongings and she doesn’t give a damn about the mess! Live in the moment!

_Show me how?_

Ugh. I was never good at living in the moment, aside from a few rare instances I had with Asriel. Alright, Frisk, I say. Lemme have control.

Frisk has to willingly recede for me to come forward. I flex their fingers and toes. Things stop feeling weird after a few seconds.

Undyne is screaming something about cheap noodles. “Uhh, just put them in the pot,” she tells me.

I grab the box, tear it open, and throw the entire thing into the pot as hard as I can. Frisk is a little miffed.

“YEAH!!!” Undyne exclaims. “I’M INTO IT!!!”

It ends with a fire and property damage, but I suspect that’s how things usually go with Undyne, given how nonchalant she was when Papyrus casually dived through her window. It’s _exciting_.

Frisk gains another friend, which is good too.

 

* * *

 

I needed something other than Asriel to make me feel better. Eventually I would ruin him, I knew that. So if I found something else that could pull me out of the panic attacks and post-nightmare terror (or better yet, found something to prevent them), I wouldn’t have to rely on him so much. I knew it hurt him to see me like that, and now I knew why.

He said he loved me. I believed him. Not a week after he started saying it, his parents started saying it too, which was... confusing, at first. They began to refer to us, collectively, including me, as a family.

I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to think of them as my parents or Asriel as my brother. I _wanted_ to, but... family was... that was a word I – nope no no fucking NO. Stop it right now. Couldn’t go there never go there where was my _fucking_ knife

Maybe I would never be able to separate the association of family with that white-hot rage of wanting to slowly bleed someone out and watch as the hope drains out of them long before their life, leaving only despair

But I obviously never told them any of that, even though the first few times they said it, Toriel and Asgore watched carefully for my reaction. I still couldn’t say it back, but this family, against rational thinking, clearly, had taken me in, treated me... normally (right? This was normal, right?), and loved me. The least I could do for them was to try to control my – my stupid – whatever the hell my head was doing that kept leaving me panicked and unable to touch Asriel, who especially deserved better from me.

So.

I figured out pain was a quick way to ground myself. At first it was only small things. I would pinch myself, dig my fingernails into my palms or arms, bite the inside of my cheek, fist a hand in my hair and tug.

I didn’t need to do it _all_ the time. I would have nightmares and panic attacks for a couple of weeks and then I’d be fine for months. Just long enough to convince myself it wouldn’t happen again. Then it happened again.

Despite my suffocating terror that this, this would be the time they got fed up with me and sent me away, it never happened. I managed to express just enough of that fear for them to understand when I was crying so hard I could barely breathe but I was breathing too much and how did that even work and I wouldn’t have said a _damn thing_ if I had any control over my body at the time, but. But they understood. And they assured me they would continue to take care of me for as long as I needed. That they _wanted_ to take care of me. And when I held Asriel’s hand he sniffled and said he loved me and added that we’d be best friends forever, which was sappy but it also made an unfamiliar warmth spread through my chest and settle in my heart.

I started to go outside (well – not _really_ outside because we were Underground, but) more often. I even met other monsters, new people, though I always had to be with Asriel or Toriel or Asgore when that happened. I went shopping with Toriel and waved at people (who smiled and waved back!) who came to see Asgore while we gardened and played outside with Asriel. I couldn’t do these things every day, all the time, but being able to do them at all was an improvement.

During one of my calm periods, I was presented at the monthly address at the castle. I didn’t enjoy being stared at, but I didn’t think much of it until Asgore uttered something like _here is proof that humans can be kind and accepting of us. The war has been over for a long time, but we have remained Underground in fear of the humans. We do not need to fear them anymore._

A cheer went up at his words and I wanted to scream because that was _wrong_ , I wasn’t kind, I wasn’t good, _they_ were, monsters were kind and unselfish and everything humans _weren’t_ and if what Toriel told me about souls was true they should have been afraid and they should have wanted to stay down here because it was so much nicer down here and yeah the surface had the sun and the stars and the sky and more space but it also had _humans_ and that instantly made it unacceptable to me so how, _how_ —

How could they want to leave. How could they want to live alongside the humans.

From that point onward, there was a slight change. Everyone was more hopeful. Optimistic. Willing to entertain the idea of a future on the surface.

I was human and awful, but I couldn’t crush that. So I didn’t say anything. They weren’t close to finding a way to break the barrier, anyway. Asgore had mentioned his Royal Scientist was working on it, but a solution was far off. Asriel told me about some prophecy, but I paid little attention because I didn’t want to leave.

Was that cruel? Letting them hope that life on the surface would be wonderful, when I knew that the humans would make sure that it would not be?

It probably was, but it was a moot point and I hoped it would stay that way. I hoped to stay down here forever.

I asked Asgore about my knife in the garden because context was important. Told him it would be useful for cutting some things because I wasn’t as strong as him, I couldn’t pull on or break stems or weeds so easily. He retrieved it and gave it to me.

When he asked me why I’d had it when I Fell, I clammed up and couldn’t answer. He quickly assured me that it was okay, but requested that I wear gloves when I used it in the garden. I agreed easily.

It never crossed his mind that I would use it outside the garden.

 

* * *

 

 You tend to RESET in the middle after three points.

The first is after the accidental death of Toriel. You don’t listen to Frisk (can you hear Frisk at all? Can you hear me? Sometimes I think you can only hear me when we reach LV 20 or are approaching it) and instead of refusing to fight you slowly whittle away at Toriel’s HP. I know your intention is to spare her when her HP drops low enough. You have done that with other monsters.

You don’t expect the final hit to be the final hit. And when it happens, Frisk is crying, I am screaming and cursing, and I can feel your shock, too. Sometimes you cry like Frisk or you can’t stop swearing like me. When you react like this, you RESET. And then you figure out how to do it right.

The second point...

Is during one of _those_ runs. We hunt everyone down, for whatever reason. Sometimes Frisk is compliant, sometimes they are not. Sometimes I am furious and terrible to them, sometimes I am just confused.

But you are demanding. And then we reach Papyrus.

And he places himself in our way. And he immediately spares us. Every. Single. Time.

And sometimes you don’t care, you knock his head off, and you keep going, trailing dust in your wake, and I let you, because I want to knock _your_ fucking head off and I can’t do that until I have all the LOVE I need.

But sometimes

you stop. Sometimes I can tell you are upset when Papyrus professes his everlasting, misplaced belief in us. Sometimes you RESET.

When you don’t

we reach the third point. And you have a _bad_ time. Over. And over. And over. And over.

Again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and

You. Have. A bad time.

 

* * *

 

Toriel and Asgore had both separately and almost immediately asked me about why I had a problem with people. They seemed to be under the impression that something bad had happened to me. The more time I spent with them, the more I was convinced they were right.

Sure, I still didn’t talk much with other people, but I saw people, I listened to Toriel or Asgore or Asriel while they spoke with others, I went on trips through the Underground so Asriel’s parents could do kingly and queenly stuff (Asriel and I mostly just found novel places to play when Asriel didn’t have to do his occasional princely stuff). I noticed how monsters interacted with one another.

Sure, they all had different personalities. Some were more gregarious than others. Some were grumpier than others. But none of them... were like I had been, on the surface. The way monster kids interacted with their parents, with other adults... it was _nothing_ like the way I had interacted with human adults, and it was certainly far removed from the way—

The humans who were supposed to be responsible for me, there was nobody like them down here. Nobody. Nobody down here had ever hurt me on purpose or screamed at me or—

I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. I just knew that I wanted to kill some people and that maybe when I did my brain would stop howling.

Toriel and Asgore had acknowledged my issues rather quickly but hadn’t made me talk. They occasionally let me know they were available if I wanted to talk, usually after I had a bad night terror or panic attack. Which still happened. Maybe with decreasing frequency, but it was still too early to tell. And I _still_ couldn’t see them as my family, no matter how much I wanted to.

I liked them, to be sure. After a year I was reasonably sure nobody was going to hurt me, even though I occasionally still flinched when Toriel or Asgore went to touch me. But I did let them touch me now. Sometimes I even hugged them. I just didn’t... I didn’t know. Maybe I wasn’t capable of the same depth of love they were. That made sense. I was still human, after all, even if they treated me just like they treated Asriel.

Asriel took over a year to ask me. And he didn’t ask me until he walked in on me with my knife to my arm, blood trickling down my fingers and into the sink, head somehow simultaneously foggy and sharp.

He was totally shocked. He stared for at least ten seconds before any semblance of emotion made its way onto his face and then it was just too much and I had to look away.

“Chara?” he asked tremulously.

I didn’t answer him. How could I?

We both stood there for half a minute, the silence only broken by the infrequent _drip_ of blood rolling off my fingertips. I’d been doing this for a while. I was smart about it. I never left a mess.

Then he left.

Of course he wouldn’t understand. I had fucked up again. I needed to control my own pain. I needed to feel that I could control it and it didn’t matter, anyway, because the next meal would heal me because these injuries were so minor they didn’t even count as injuries especially compared to what I’d had Before—

Asriel came back. He set a chocolate bar on the sink and turned on the cold water. Oh.

When I didn’t move, he reached for my left arm. Paused to look at my face. He did not have to ask to touch me anymore. He would let me know he was going to do it and a lack of objection would be taken as consent.

I didn’t move away or protest or even look afraid, so he took that wrist in one hand and carefully pried my fingers off the knife with the other. He set it on the sink next to the chocolate bar, which he then picked up, opened, and handed to me.

“Eat,” he said. He rarely spoke like that to me, like he expected obedience, like I would never consider refusing him.

I took a bite. He grabbed my bloody right arm at the elbow and guided the lacerated flesh under the running water. He moved my forearm and hand along under the stream, washing all the blood away.

It hurt a bit, but hell, that was what I was going for, wasn’t it?

“Keep eating,” Asriel said. I did. When I choked down half the chocolate, he turned off the water, patted my not-bloody arm dry with a towel, and inspected it. Apparently unsatisfied, he applied a bit of healing magic.

I liked chocolate. I kept eating. The faucet was a good place for staring. That let me avoid looking at Asriel’s face, my knife, or the mirror. Definitely the mirror.

Asriel was trying to heal my scars. I pulled on my arm, just a little, and he cut the magic and let go. He looked at me but I couldn’t look at him. A hand appeared in front of me, palm-up. I took it, feeling his paw pads against my calloused skin. He led me back to our room. I grabbed my knife on my way out.

When we got there, I sat on my bed and he sat on his. “I woke up and noticed you were gone,” he said after a moment. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, and I noticed the light was on and—”

His voice cracked. He put his hands over his face, then apparently decided that wouldn’t muffle the sound enough so he grabbed his pillow and sobbed into it. I set my knife on the bookcase next to my bed.

I didn’t know how long I sat there and waited. I was sure my sense of time was off. Everything felt numbed out. That was good. Whatever roaring creature living inside my head had been placated for the time being.

My feet moved of their own accord. I shuffled over to Asriel’s bed, climbed up, leaned against him, and wrapped my arms around him.

I did not know the right words, so I kept my mouth shut. I had to let him cry himself out. By the time he did we were both lying down, arms wrapped around one another, his face in my bony shoulder. This wasn’t too unusual. Sometimes after nightmares or night terrors I would be too afraid to go back to sleep unless I got in bed with him.

I was dreading the inevitable question – _Why would you ever do that to yourself?_ – but Asriel surprised me.

“You – you don’t like humans very much, do you, Chara?” he asked, voice still thick with tears.

I was a little surprised he had put it together. I hadn’t said anything explicit, so he must have picked up on my unwillingness to talk about certain things or the way I avoided questions or my facial expressions when I was doing either of those things. I was smarter than Asriel. I was better at learning and accumulating knowledge and I planned ahead to an extent that he could not comprehend. I could let myself acknowledge that I was more intelligent because he was better than me in literally every other way.

“No,” I rasped out. “I don’t.”

Asriel sniffled. “When I brought you here,” he mumbled, “and you were still unconscious, I listened to my parents talking about you. They didn’t know I was listening. Mom said some of your injuries were older than your fall. She was really upset about it. And then you told me you’d had worse injuries, but you changed the subject right away so I couldn’t ask you about it.”

He shifted, pulling me closer. I thought maybe we might be getting too old for this shit but I honestly never wanted this moment to end. The cuddling, not the conversation he obviously wanted me to participate in.

“I d-don’t understand a lot about you,” he continued. “I don’t understand why you have to hide under the bed sometimes, or why you get so tense when you talk to someone you don’t know, or why you c-can’t stand it sometimes when I hug you. I know it’s not your fault and it’s not something you can control, but I don’t understand it. And I _really_ don’t understand why you’ve been cutting your skin open. But I _want_ to understand. I want to understand because I love you and I hate that I can’t help you because I don’t understand.”

I stroked his head. “Asriel, go to sleep.”

“No!” He pulled back, glaring at me. The glare quickly subsided into that sad, kicked-puppy face that he wore so often. No, wait. He somehow managed to look even sadder than that. Shit. “I know... something happened to you on the surface. Something bad. And you won’t tell Mom or Dad about it.”

Absolutely fucking not. I froze every single time I sensed Toriel or Asgore even approach the subject. They had never been insistent about me answering and they’d only asked or come close to it four or five times between them. There were always a lot of sad eyes and sighing involved on their part.

Nobody could do sad eyes like Asriel, though, and taking my knife to myself was relatively recent. It brought me a calm that was foreign to me. My head felt... clear and hazy, but hazy in a good way.

“I don’t want to leave this place, Asriel,” I said slowly. “Ever. Humans are evil. They’re selfish and cruel.”

His grip tightened. “You’re not like that.”

“Yes I am.”

“No. You’re not. And even if you were, I’d still love you.”

“That’s because you’re a monster. Monsters are nothing like humans. I’m not good, Asriel. I’m not even close. Humans are... when I grow up I’ll—” My throat clamped down. Not that. Something else. Something that was just as true, but not that. “On the surface it’s kill or be killed. You have to learn to hurt other people so you don’t keep getting hurt. But you have to get hurt at least once before you figure that out. And even if you figure it out, sometimes... there isn’t anything you can do about it because you’re weak and th – so... that...”

The numbness was starting to fade. I wasn’t going to tell him everything, anyway. I was human, I was horrible, but I wasn’t horrible enough that I’d tell him everything.

“Please don’t stop,” he begged. “Keep talking to me, even if you think it’s bad. I want to hear whatever you have to say. I want to know about you, what happened to you, even if it was bad.”

I shook my head slowly. He clung to me and let out a shuddering sob. Shit, was he going to do this again?

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He exhaled noisily. “For what?”

“I’m just sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. I want you here. Mom and Dad want you here. We don’t care that sometimes you have to do... things that... aren’t good for you so you don’t feel so bad. We just... we wanna help. We don’t wanna watch you hurt inside like that. Because we love you. _I_ love you.”

Against all rationality. I knew I burdened them. I was sure any human family would have done a quick cost-benefit analysis the instant I started inconveniencing them and gotten rid of me. I didn’t worry about that from the Dreemurrs anymore. Instead of fearing abandonment, I was plagued by guilt because of my certainty that they would never abandon me, even if they should. I had a lot of experience with fear, but guilt was pretty new.

I leaned my forehead against Asriel’s. “Azzy. I love you too.”

Maybe I couldn’t love as deeply as them, but that didn’t matter anymore. Love was scary. Love meant someone could hurt you through another person, even if it was the person you love hurting themself.

It was true, though. “I mean it,” I added when he didn’t move or respond. His eyes were wide, glistening. “It’s been... months since you started saying that to me. It’s about damn time I said it back to you.”

“Swear,” Asriel whispered automatically, the way he always did when I cursed.

I grinned at that. A cry tore from him, then he grabbed me and squeezed. He was crying again, but he was smiling too. “I love you too,” he choked out. I rolled my eyes, still grinning, maybe crying a little too, I couldn’t tell. He had to get the last word. “Best friends forever?”

I squeezed him back. “Best friends forever.”

 

* * *

 

Sans is simultaneously simple and complicated, which is... complicated.

He can’t actually remember. Hell, Frisk and I can’t actually remember. (Can you?) It’s not quite a memory, but it’s close. Not a memory because after the RESET it technically never happened, but... it’s still in my head. Somewhere. Frisk’s head. Asri – Flow – As – _Flowey’s_ head. Sans’s head, evidently.

He knows about the RESETs and SAVEs and LOADs. Maybe all it takes to ‘remember’ is that knowledge. Nobody else knows outside the four of us (and you). Sometimes Frisk and I don’t even know, not fully, but if we manage to make it here, we always know.

Frisk is barely there by the time Sans tries to smear their remains all over the brightly-lit walls and tiled floor. Usually. It’s mostly me. And you. But it’s mostly me (sometimes Frisk is screaming pleading sobbing in our head and)

...

Not that. Not now. Now I want to talk about Sans and the sort of shit we do to one another here.

Dying repeatedly is... boring. For me. At this point, I’m fairly numbed out. All I really feel is the DETERMINATION to keep going and some residual anger for you.

I love how frustrated he makes you.

Doing the same thing over and over and over again fucking SUCKS. There is no way around that. Sans thinks Frisk has total control over the timeline, but they don’t. I don’t have total control over it either. Sans has no control at all and never had any control, but he _remembers._

He gets it. It’s just too bad I almost always realize he gets it only when we’re trying to slam a blade through his sternum.

Sometimes I wish I could talk to him about it, but he doesn’t even know I exist.

Sometimes

Sometimes when you aren’t there, things... change. Once, when I am down to 1 HP and I have no food, Sans sticks a blue bone through my chest – and leaves it there. Looks me right in the fucking eye, smirks, and waits.

I am determined, but I am not patient.

I accuse him of putting himself in my path because he wants to die. Because he can’t live without his brother. His stupid smug grin falters but does not disappear, the lights in his eyes die, and he gets fucking _ruthless._

I rarely speak during this FIGHT. Usually he does all the talking. So once, while we are dying, Frisk’s brain squirts death-chemicals into the headspace and I grin, drooling blood, and say, “Shit, Sans. You’ve spilled enough kid blood to repaint the fucking walls.” I half-heartedly wing the knife at him, but Frisk’s muscles convulse and it falls short. “It’s not very knife to keep killing a child. You _get my point_?”

I snicker, even though that was terrible.

He tenses. Then he asks, “Kid?” in the most confused tone I have ever heard from him.

I shake Frisk’s head, bare Frisk’s bloody teeth at him in what I’m sure is a ghastly grin. It’s not like he’ll remember this, anyway.

...

He never stops smiling

but that doesn’t mean a damn thing about Sans.

 

* * *

 

Asriel held my hand. I couldn’t believe he had managed to talk me into this.

I told Toriel and Asgore about the knife. How I’d taken it to my arms, sometimes my legs. How it made me feel better because for a little while, it dulled the raging storm crashing around in my skull. I pulled up my sleeves, showed them the dozens of scars. I made the mistake of saying, “It’s not as bad as it looks. Six or seven of them – I had those Before I Fell – before I started—” then I realized myself and shut the fuck up.

More sad eyes. Asgore sniffled, unable to say anything, and Toriel told me that it was very brave of me to tell them that and told Asriel that he was a very good friend and brother for supporting me and that this was the right thing for us to do and that we would handle this as a family.

There were hugs and Asgore sat in Toriel’s chair and Asriel and I fell asleep on his lap. Toriel used our nap to hide all the sharp objects in the house, including my knife. When we woke up, she informed me that I’d have to ask for it and I could only use it for approved gardening activities with supervision.

It was... hard. Not being able to do that. I felt a little less in control. More like I could accidentally hurt someone and I was increasingly afraid of waking up and finding out I’d hurt Asriel in my sleep. I’d flailed during a nightmare and hit him a couple of times during the time I had lived here. Not hard enough to do any damage, but Toriel had told me about monster SOULs and what can hurt or kill a monster and I was terrified of what my sleeping human brain might want to do to Asriel.

Toriel taught me how to knit, which helped. Sometimes. Three weeks after I told them, she caught me completely zoned out and sticking my hand into the fireplace. I honestly didn’t remember much of it, but she healed my hand and kept the fire much cooler from then on.

They asked again. Everyone did. And because Asriel had his arms wrapped around me and was resting his head on my shoulder, my mouth moved without consulting my stupid, stupid brain and said, “Humans are awful.”

That was already too much. I’d said things like that to Asriel, but never in front of his parents.

Neither of them, however, looked particularly surprised. Asgore knelt down in front of us and said, very softly, “Not all humans are awful, Chara, but the ones you knew obviously were. We know you’ve had trouble adjusting, so we want to remind you that you are _safe_ here, and that we all love you very much.”

“You’re wrong. They’re all bad. We’re all bad.”

Toriel’s healing magic was doing no more, so she stopped. She brushed some hair out of my face. I didn’t flinch. That was good, I supposed. “We know you feel that way sometimes,” she said. “You cannot ignore your feelings, and you shouldn’t, even if they are based on something that is untrue. In all honesty, to us, you are not bad at all, regardless of what you had to do on the surface in order to survive.”

“Are you going to kick me out?” I asked, still completely monotone. Asriel’s grip on me tightened, then shifted so he could rub my back. “I hurt myself again after you told me not to.”

“Of course not, Chara,” Asgore replied. His eyes were bright. “We know you are trying. We would like you to keep coming to us if you feel an urge to hurt yourself, but we would also like you to tell someone if you are having bad thoughts about yourself.”

“We want to help you,” Toriel added. She was still stroking my hair, and even though she wasn’t Asriel, it felt nice. “Your suffering pains us, my child. We want you to be happy with yourself because we love you dearly.”

I moved closer to Asriel, flexing my halfway-healed hand. I was – damnit, I was crying. And I was saying it again. “I – I love you too. And I d-don’t know if I can – if I can ever see you as my family, because you don’t deserve to be compared to the trash that was – that – I – but I don’t care and it doesn’t matter because you’re the first family I’ve ever loved.”

More reassurances that I couldn’t hear because we were hugging again – as a group! – this time and I didn’t even feel trapped. I just felt safe. Maybe even loved.

Asriel nuzzled the side of my face. Not maybe. Definitely.

 

* * *

 

“So, I’ve got a question for ya. Do you think even the worst person can change...? That everyone can be a good person, if they just try?”

That depends on whether the person in question is a human or monster.

... Or that’s what I would have said. Before I met Frisk.

Frisk has tried to be good with me snarling at them for their humanity, trying to force them to kill so I can justify my misplaced hatred. Sometimes they succeed.

So, yes. It’s _possible_ for someone to be good just by trying.

That is still no guarantee, especially if you are dealing with a human.

This time, however...

 _RESET?_ Frisk asks quietly. _Please?_

RESETting (and absolutely everything else) depends on determination. Frisk kicked Flowey out of the picture entirely when they Fell. It is Frisk, me, and you and how determined we are to RESET or not. To FIGHT or not. To kill or not.

Things are much easier when we all agree.

I only pause for a second. I’m fine with it.

Are you?

...

Well, then. I guess we will see Sans and his stupid whoopee cushion a little later. Earlier. Whatever.

 

* * *

 

Things got... better.

It wasn’t perfect. Sometimes I still had nightmares, still couldn’t leave the house, still wanted to hurt myself, still couldn’t touch anyone.

But most of the time, I was... okay. I liked where I was. I liked the people around me. I didn’t like myself all the time, but that was alright. Maybe I had just needed some time to leave the surface behind.

I no longer felt like I would somehow ruin Asriel. He’d given me so much, but I could offer him some things, too. I was the more creative of us when we played. I thought of everything that might be relevant to our make-believe situations. He started to pick up on these habits of mine. He began pointing out things that, months ago, only I would have thought of.

He seemed happier the happier I behaved, but he was always willing to accommodate for me. If I needed him to read to me instead of hugging me, he always picked books I liked. If I needed to slink into his bed because I couldn’t sleep, he moved over and only snuggled as much as I wanted. If I panicked a little and needed him to calm me down, he breathed audibly and counted for me and helped me ground myself.

I needed him often, so I was more than willing to do almost whatever he asked of me. I did get annoyed with him occasionally – I liked to be alone sometimes and he tended to crave my attention whenever he didn’t have it. Which was more than fine. If anything, I couldn’t believe he never got bored or tired of me. But he almost never asked me to do something he knew would make me uncomfortable. If he did, it was probably necessary.

Which was why I was confused with this. Maybe I had heard him wrong. This didn’t seem necessary. “What?” I asked.

He twisted one hand in the other. Reached up to touch an ear. Nervousness. “I... wanted to know if you’d show me your soul. Yours can exist outside your body, safely, since you’re human, and I’ve never – but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! I was just wondering.”

Nope, I didn’t mishear him. I knew Toriel hadn’t taught me everything monsters knew about SOULs. She had been purposefully vague about some topics. What I did know was what Asriel was asking of me was somewhat intimate, since we wouldn’t be fighting, and his body language indicated he knew it, too.

I put down my colored pencil and stood up. “Okay,” I said simply, ignoring the churning in my gut. “What do I need to do?”

“It’s totally fine, I know – what?”

“I said okay.”

“Wha... really? You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it. I trust you.”

He beamed, delight and fear warring for dominance of his expression. “G-gosh... I thought you’d say no. I, um. Y-you don’t need to do anything, I’ll just... are you sure this is okay, Chara?”

I nodded, even though my insides were writhing. He approached me, stopping in front of me, close enough to touch only if we both reached out. Part of me was worried (terrified) that my SOUL would be just as hideously human as I expected it to be, but... Asriel had asked. And I wouldn’t tell him no just because I was scared he’d be repulsed or disappointed by me. He had seen a lot of my shit (not all of it never all of it I could never do that to him) and he had always responded comfortingly, lovingly.

“I’m not gonna touch it,” he promised me, going bright red under his fur when he said that. Huh. Usually I was the one who blushed like that. “I was just – I wanted to know you, and your SOUL – it _is_ you, all of you, in its purest form.”

 _That_ was a weird feeling. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either, and it left me feeling vulnerable in some way—

There was a small, cartoonish heart floating just in front of my chest. It was glowing a brilliant scarlet and it slowly bobbed in place, in time with my breathing. It cast a reddish light over me that barely reached Asriel.

I looked at him, anxious. He was in awe, staring at my SOUL like it was the night sky he’d never seen before (and he hadn’t, I reminded myself). Then his gaze shot up to meet mine and he was looking at _me_ like that.

His brow furrowed in confusion and worry. Oh. I was in tears. When the hell did I become such a crybaby?

He did something and that weird feeling vanished along with my SOUL. For a few seconds after, I was aware of it, I could feel it, and I imagined it lighting up everything inside me, which just made the tears come harder.

Asriel stepped forward and hugged me. “I didn’t expect—” I started, then stopped to sniff. Come on, Chara. Calm down.

“It was beautiful,” Asriel said kindly. I could tell he meant it. “I knew it would be.” He rubbed my back. “I felt like you needed to see it.”

What – he – damn it. I thought I was doing something for him, but. Typical Asriel.

I was pretty much done crying when I pulled back. I wiped a few stray tears off my face, then grinned and shook my head.

Asriel went to nuzzle my cheek just as I moved my head. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

His mouth slid awkwardly across mine when we both moved. He outright bleated in shock and leapt back, clapping his hands over his mouth.

“OhmygoshI’msosorry!” he blurted. “I didn’t mean to, to – I’m sorry, Chara, I’m _really_ sorry, I—”

Uh. Okay. So. So I was just going to stand here, and not say anything?

No. Kinda had to say something, since Asriel seemed to think he had done something wrong. “Azzy, it’s fine. It was an accident. And...”

And what? And _nothing_ , obviously. Shut up. Stop thinking. Maybe—

Ah, shit. There it was. All the blood in my body rushing to my face. Damn.

“I’m really sorry,” Asriel said again. His panic had faded with my assurance, but he still looked kind of pathetic. “I... um. Yeah. Golly.” He looked away from me.

I could let this stop here. He would find something else to do and I’d go back to drawing and it would be awkward and we would go to sleep tonight and not talk about this ever again.

Or...

“Hey, Azzy.”

He looked back at me, eyes wide, gaze searching. He didn’t back away when I approached him. He didn’t pull away when I hugged him. He twitched but didn’t say anything when I leaned closer and—

—lifted one of his ears and blew into it.

He bleated again, grabbed his ear from me, and wrenched away from me. “ _Chara!_ ” he exclaimed loudly. He hid his face in his hands, embarrassed.

I was laughing too hard to resist when he tackled me to the floor. We broke the no-wrestling rule (it was mostly tickling on Asriel’s part), but by the time Toriel heard us and came in our room we were both laughing so hard we were wheezing so it was worth the (slightly amused) scolding we got.

 

* * *

 

Something has become obvious.

Frisk and I and you have done this too many times to count. More than once, we have reached the absolute.

... The first time I killed Asriel, I didn’t feel much. Just a twinge of annoyance.

After that, though... every time we reach him and he panics and begs for his life – it’s bad.

I mean, it’s bad the whole way through. Stepping over Toriel’s dust. Papyrus’s disembodied _head_ encouraging us even with his awareness of his own inevitable demise. Undyne the Undying refusing to die, Mettaton standing in our way even though he _knows_ he can’t do a damn thing and Sans, limping away with ketchup leaking from his ribcage and mouth and _damn him_ he does that because he _knows_ he KNOWS he’ll die and he thought that maybe seeing something like blood instead of dust would make me and us pause and think about what we were doing and HA if he knew seeing him fake-bleeding pulses my vision _red_ and makes me want to feel _real blood_ wash over my hands and sticky between my fingers HE WOULD LEAVE THE FUCKING KETCHUP AT HOME

It starts with Toriel and it’s still there when we reach the last two members of my family but at that point I can’t stop, I just think about all those humans outside who need to die deserve to die ABSOLUTELY MUST DIE and the power still feels amazing because killing is power and LOVE feels good even though the guilt pounds at the inside of my skull and makes me want to take the knife to myself to let some of the bad out but there’s too much because I am ALL bad, I am human and all of my attempts to try not to be have somehow made me worse

I cringe a bit cutting Asgore down because he doesn’t expect it _at all_ but MERCY is not an option at this point but it doesn’t matter anyway because Asriel, SOULless Asriel, always finishes him off and even with Asriel’s face and voice how can that _thing_ be MY Asriel after he killed his own father? After he – he’s done what we’re doing, doing this over and over and over and over again and again and again but Asriel can’t feel anything, nothing good, anyway, nothing that could convince him to stop what we’re doing RIGHT NOW WHY CAN’T WE GET THIS FUCKING _RIGHT_

And then he begs me not to kill him just like he begged me not to kill THEM and rage and sorrow and regret pulse behind my eyes and it’stoomuchtoomuch and I can’t handle it and when I listened to him the first time, relinquished control to him, he died rather than kill humans who absolutely DESERVED to die so I don’t listen to him this time and—

How many times have I killed him?

(Don’t answer that, if you know. Please don’t. _Please._ If I find out, I’ll—)

I can feel things. It isn’t just an awareness of Frisk’s emotions, or sometimes yours. I can feel my own emotions.

I did not take Frisk’s SOUL. Not completely. We are sharing it.

And even when I do not want to feel anymore, I cannot get rid of it.

 

* * *

 

Things were going well, which was why I didn’t mention the way my insides twisted when Asgore insisted on measuring my and Asriel’s heights. Asriel pouted when he realized the gap between us had increased once again.

“I’ll be way taller than you when we’re all grown up,” he told me, slightly sulky. “So I’ll have to catch up sooner or later.”

I laughed it off because I didn’t know what else to do.

I did not want to get taller at all. I did not want to turn into an adult – a _human_ adult.

But I was. Slowly.

I tried to ignore it. Most of the time, I was successful. Things continued to get better and better and I dared hope that I might be happy living out my life here. That even if I grew up, the goodness of all these monsters would have rubbed off on me and I wouldn’t be so bad, even though I was human. Asriel would become king, eventually. And I... whatever I was to him, I couldn’t imagine leaving his side.

Hoping was a mistake.

Toriel and Asgore both had a busy week. Toriel had been so busy she had only been able to teach me three nights out of the usual five, and she was away all day today so some engineers could explain something about the still-new Core to her. Asgore had been in Snowdin all of yesterday, returning to New Home just hours before Toriel had to leave. He was exhausted, and I knew Asriel’s parents liked to be apart about as much as Asriel liked to be apart from me.

Asriel and I wanted to do something nice for them. So we baked a pie.

Asgore was delighted by it. He ate a piece as soon as it was ready and told us it was delicious, though he asked us what recipe he used because he didn’t recognize it. Asriel said, “That’s weird, ‘cause it’s Mom’s butterscotch recipe, and we followed it to the letter.”

Obviously, we hadn’t.

Asriel and I didn’t eat any because we’d stuffed ourselves sneaking snacks from the kitchen as we cooked. Toriel got home sometime after we went to bed.

She woke us up in the middle of the night. Told us Asgore wasn’t feeling well. Asked us to tell her _exactly_ what we’d put it the pie.

As soon as Asriel uttered the word _buttercups_ horror cracked across Toriel’s face. We both realized our mistake at the same time. I recalled how Asgore made me wear gloves whenever I handled the buttercups in the garden.

Toriel was... upset. She didn’t yell, but she told us very sternly that we were never to cook again without supervision and that she didn’t know when Asgore would recover. Asriel cried. I stared at the ceiling.

When she left, Asriel came over to me. “Chara, I’m – I’m gonna go see Dad. I f-feel so bad. We should apologize.”

I had been the one reading the recipe. I had told Asriel to head out to the garden to get the flowers.

“Chara? D-do you wanna come with me? I think we should both go.”

Was it an accident? Really?

“Chara?”

I started laughing. At first Asriel thought I was crying and he stroked my hair, but as I got louder he snatched his hand back like I had burnt him.

“Chara?” he asked, voice wavering but no longer sniffling.

I couldn’t stop. How _stupid_ was I? Just because monsters were nice – I was human. Humans were horrible. Of course I would do something horrible, like accidentally poison the king, the man who had been more of a father to me than anyone else in my life.

“Chara, are you okay?”

I wasn’t okay. I was never going to _be_ okay because I was human and that was NEVER GOING TO CHANGE.

“You’re scaring me.”

Monster SOULs were made of love, hope, and compassion. Take that away and...

“Chara, _stop_!”

I stopped.

Take that away and that was what it meant to be human.

Asriel was backing away from me. He was shaking. “I... I’m g-gonna go, Chara. I think you should, too, once you... stop.”

It was all so _clear_ to me now.

It was nice here because there were no humans here. If the monsters went to the surface, their goodness would drown in the atrocity of humanity.

I could not let that happen.

Monsters did not deserve to share the surface with the humans.

They deserved to rule the surface _instead_ of the humans. They didn’t deserve to deal with humans at all.

That, of course, included me.

The prophecy. I hadn’t paid attention when Asriel told me about it, but I did remember that it took someone who had seen the surface.

I was determined to fulfill the prophecy.

I needed to break the barrier. I needed to kill every last human on the surface. And I needed to make sure I died doing it.

Then the monsters could finally go free.

 

* * *

 

I have something to say to you.

But first: fuck you.

You might have more of an influence over Frisk’s actions than I do. You definitely had enough power over them to bargain with their SOUL. And because Frisk sometimes does shit that they don’t want to do and I don’t want them to do, I’m inclined to think you’re human, because you’re an asshole.

The only fucking time I can take total control from you is when Frisk reaches LV 20. That is why I sometimes push them in that direction. It costs me them. Frisk isn’t really there anymore by the time we reach LV 20.

But it’s worth it when I get to come after you.

There is no greater pleasure than locking you out of this world, however briefly I manage to keep you from it.

Well, no. That’s a lie. It’s bittersweet. I get to fuck you up, but I lose Frisk. And _damn_ does it feel good to cut you down.

But it’s _tiring_. Especially when we remember. Bits and pieces are useful: they help us navigate and interact with monsters. They keep us from being afraid.

Realizing that we have done this repeatedly, at YOUR behest, however, is depressing and infuriating.

What do you want from us? I do not understand why you do the things you do.

...

Perhaps...

This time, we let Frisk do it their way. Frisk wants to make friends with everyone. They only ever fuck up when they are afraid. They never let their anger sink its teeth into them the way I do.

Let’s do that. You stop fucking with Frisk. It’s horrible because they never think about you. They might not even know you exist. Flowey might, but not Frisk, so stop messing with them. If you don’t, I will make sure they reach LV 20 again, and this time when I push you out, you are _staying_ out.

Or I’ll just fuck up whatever happy ending you will eventually chase. Your choice.

Actually, I might do that anyway, because you suck.

But for now... this time...

We can attempt to be nice for a change. It will be hard, for a couple of humans like us, but we can do it.

Frisk is human, too. If they can do it, so can we. And if you do not... well.

Do not make me remind you...

You made your choice long ago.


	5. I don't think I could do it all again. Not after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be around 10k words like all the other chapters. That, uh, didn't happen. Have an extra 5k.
> 
> You should also listen to [this song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kSHUVcVjdgg) It's from the 1997 animated film _Anastasia_. It was obviously intended as a romantic duet, but eehh... I think the lyrics are relevant.

Eyes open. Sunlight streaming down through a hole. I recognize that hole. I recognize this cavern. I recognize everything but the golden flowers I’m lying on.

I take a moment to reorient myself. What I’m... not remembering. They don’t feel like memories. But they’re real, aren’t they? They happened, but I cannot be sure, because I can’t _remember_ remember that they happened.

I know better than to trust my memory. I used to have a lot of memories snuffling around my brain, snarling and fighting and looking for something to rip apart. That something was usually me.

A pang of sadness. Shit. Shit. Asriel’s dead.

(I know I’ve done this before, but that still always hits me so hard)

 _Chara?_ Frisk asks.

I’m here, I reply immediately. We are strangers, right? Me and this... other human child. They’re a human child, right?

_Do you know who I am?_

Yes and no, I answer. It feels right to want to talk with them, to want to help them. I know your name is Frisk. I...know you, but I think this is our first meeting. Was our first meeting. This time. Or something.

Frisk giggles, rolling over in the flowers. _I feel the same way. I think you’re supposed to say funny things and help me when I get into FIGHTs._ A pause. _Will I be FIGHTing?_ they ask, more anxious now.

You obviously think so. I think so, too. I can... remember is the wrong word.

_Me too. It’s... there. But not quite._

We are both silent for a moment. Frisk wraps their arms around themself. I think it’s supposed to be a hug, for me, because that is the only way they can really express it, but I choose to ignore it, because...

Frisk, I say quietly. I am so, so sorry.

Their grip tightens. I keep talking. I know you remember it. I know you know it happened more than once. It’s... I don’t think this time will be like that. I want to help you this time.

_Are you okay with the fact that I’m human?_

No, I admit. But I’m not okay with the fact that I’m... that I was human, either.

 _I’m sorry. That must have been hard. That must_ still _be hard._

That is totally something Frisk would do. Apologize for my hardships when I’m the one who needs to be apologizing. (It’s something Asriel would do, too.) They can’t help being human any more than I could. I roll my eyes. Or I would, but – you know what, if you don’t get it by now you’re dumb and you should go read something else.

It’s fine, I tell Frisk. Let’s just go.

And you... remember what we discussed, or I will make sure you regret it.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Toriel leaves, Frisk calls her and asks to call her _Mom_. I close my eyes, briefly cutting myself off to Frisk’s senses, as the wave of regret cuts through me. I fucked up. I really fucked up.

Toriel seems pleased by this, though, and Frisk feels... anxiously happy. They hum to themself for maybe thirty seconds after the call ends, then palm the phone again.

Somehow I know what they’re going to do. I try to slam myself into them, try to take control of their body. It is so sudden that I succeed. Partially.

Frisk’s left leg crumples and they fall to the ground. _Chara, what—?_

You were going to flirt with her, I hiss at them. Don’t.

They smile. _Come on, Chara. It’s just a little fun._

DON’T, Frisk.

Frisk rolls onto their back and sits up.

Their smile slowly morphs into a smirk. They lift the phone.

FRISK I SWEAR I’M GOING TO—

 _Aw,_ they coo condescendingly. _You’re so adorable when you get all flustered and embarrassed—_

I’LL PUNCH YOU.

_You’ll punch US?_

YES I WILL PUT THE DAMN PHONE DOWN RIGHT NOW—

We are each struggling for control of Frisk’s body, which means that Frisk’s body is twitching and their limbs are spasming and they are rolling over and kicking and flailing and twitching. I can sense that Frisk is unbothered by this happening in public. I don’t care, either, as long as I get the phone away from them.

Unlike me, Frisk is right-handed, so when they manage to switch their phone to their right hand, I grow desperate.

“FRISK NO!” I yell, out loud, with their mouth.

“FRISK YES!” they shout back gleefully, even louder.

They hit the call button. All my hopes and dreams fucking _die_ , but I don’t stop struggling, no matter how absolutely crazy we look right now.

“IF YOU WERE A FRUIT, YOU’D BE A FINEAPPLE!!” Frisk screeches into the phone while I continually scream NOOOOO into the headspace.

Toriel snickers. Holy shit. At least it’s Frisk’s body and I don’t have to deal with my stupid tendency to blush ridiculously. At least there is that.

Frisk lies on the floor for some time after the call ends. Before the triumph of their victory fades away, they say, _Hey, Chara. You still mad?_

Yes, I inform them readily. I realize I sound pouty. I am not pouting, damn it. Asriel was always the pouter.

_You still wanna punch us?_

Yes. Just to make YOU feel it. Your pain tolerance isn’t as high as mine.

_You’re right. So, what if I let you walk around a little? You seem to want to do that sometimes. If you don’t punch us._

Frisk feels a little bad about doing something that I was so obviously opposed to. Huh. Like Asriel in that regard. They want to make everyone happy.

Well, at least our flailing and screaming earlier guarantees that there will be no monsters in our proximity. The monsters of the Ruins tend to be timid. It is very likely they cleared out when we both starting using Frisk’s mouth and I won’t have to interact with anyone except Frisk.

Yeah, okay, I grumble.

Frisk relinquishes control to me while they are still lying down. That was probably a good idea. If they stood up first, there was probably a chance their body would have collapsed, either because for a fraction of a second, nobody was really in it or because I might... I dunno, forget how to move or hold myself up or something.

It... _does_ feel weird, but I catch on pretty quick. I sit up, look around. I push myself to my feet and stand for a moment before taking a few steps.

I frown. Something is off. I mean, this isn’t my body, and I’m kind of horrified with how in-tune I apparently was with my old body that I can tell something is off, but a lot of things are actually off because this is Frisk’s body. They are a little shorter than I was, I think. I look at their hands. Their fingers are stubbier than mine were. They are skinny like I was, but not quite as skinny. Their... skin doesn’t feel quite as tight as mine did (whatever that actually means).

Still frowning, I casually drop a hand down to my crotch.

Then I realize what I’m doing and freeze. I pull back. Holyshit, I just groped Frisk. That was, that was, I should fucking know better, I didn’t – I can’t – why, how did doing that feel so natural that I just—

_Chara, relax—_

Frisk, oh shit, Frisk, I am _so_ sorry, I didn’t mean – I, I’m sorry, I don’t – I just—

_CHARA. Stop freaking out. It’s okay. I mean, we’ve been sharing a head for... I dunno how long, what with all the different times we’ve done this, but... I mean, we get each other’s thoughts sometimes. Besides, it’s kind of your body, too._

I can hear in their tone that they are wrongly okay – even a little amused – with what I just did. I feel like crying, but if I do I think they will wonder why and even if I don’t explain it to them they will get slivers of my thoughts and emotions and I, I can’t do that to them I won’t—

 _So..._ Frisk unknowingly interrupts my self-torment. _When you were alive, and had your own body, you didn’t... um, you weren’t... uh..._

I understand what they are asking. No, Frisk. I was...

But I don’t really want to discuss my body. At least I no longer feel like crying. _I get it,_ Frisk says quickly. _That’s alright._

A pause.

Then, with teasing glee, _Man, I should have been flirting with you the whole, time, Chara, but even then I never imagined you would—_

Heat rushes up my (Frisk’s) neck and I can _feel_ color flood my (Frisk’s!) cheeks. There’s the fucking blush, and SHUT UP, FRISK!

 

* * *

 

When we reach Home, Frisk stands in front of the mirror in the hallway. I don’t like the look in their eyes when they stare at themself, so I say, “*It’s you!”

They quirk a smile at my tone. They were ludicrously nice to everyone in the Ruins. Maybe... their humanity isn’t so bad. For them. And I sorta have to forgive them for not being Asriel, don’t I, since it’s my fault that Asriel is gone.

I try to relax so Frisk can have a quick nap in his bed. They are going to need their energy for later.

It actually goes well. It is sad that this surprises me. You are nice. I am nice. We do die a few times, but it is only initially scary. Frisk bounces back fairly quickly.

They make friends enthusiastically. They spend most of their time facing forward. I focus behind us because I KNOW that asshole flower is following us because it leaves us a creepy message in one of the echo flowers in Waterfall. Something about the flower makes me extremely uneasy and I don’t know what it is. The only time I really relax is when we are at Napstablook’s house and they invite us to lie on the floor and feel like garbage with them. This is awesome. Frisk has to do this again.

Even when my memories creep up on me, Frisk stays determined. We have this body-sharing thing handled fairly well. They know when they need to stop and just sit until things quiet down in my head. They do it more frequently than necessary, actually, even though I have gotten pretty good about telling them when I need a break.

They are not without their demons, either.

After a short nap at the MTT resort, Frisk rolls around on the giant bed, happily burrito-ing themself in the blankets. They like touching soft things.

Hey, Frisk, I ask. How’d you get to be so good at dodging?

Frisk winces and I get a flash, a sound, the smell of something sharp and ducking down and a bottle bursting against a wall—

I grimace, tense. Frisk is tense, too.

Frisk. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... you know.

 _It’s okay._ Their head-voice is a whisper. They wiggle free of the blankets.

I should shut up, but I have to know. Hey. When I – when I remember stuff from the surface, too, do you see it or hear it or feel it? Because I kind of... saw a little of yours just now.

A heavy, heavy pause. _Sometimes._ Still whispering. _Sometimes I can just feel that you’re in pain. But_ _–_ _but sometimes I get_ _–_ _snapshots, I guess. I... know. I mean, I don’t know everything, all the details, but... I know._

Fuck. That was never supposed to happen.

_Chara. I’m here for you, if you wanna—_

No. I don’t wanna put that shit on you.

_But maybe I can help—_

For the last time, Frisk, NO. Just... don’t.

I shouldn’t have to say anything else. They should just be able to tell.

Slowly, they take their left hand with their right. They rub a thumb across their knuckles. I understand. I let myself into their left hand and grip the fingers of their right hand tightly. We do not need to say anything. I sense Frisk lean against me in the headspace.

 

* * *

 

As soon as the monsters begin talking in New Home, Frisk says, _That was you, wasn’t it?_

I’m busy trying to choke back tears because I know what is coming. Yeah. It was.

Frisk heads into the kitchen first. They look in the trash, of all things. _Toriel_ , they say. _She was the queen, wasn’t she? Asriel’s mother._

Yeah.

Frisk carefully feels for my reaction when they take the heart locket and worn dagger. I make sure they don’t get anything. It is imperative that they have the best armor and weapon available to them. I know how strong Asgore is.

I am still composed, no matter how shaky I feel, so Frisk looks around the room. I suck it up and comment as usual.

“*What a comfortable bed. If you laid down here, you might not ever get up.”

Frisk’s head jerks up. That was probably the wrong thing to say. I should try to be a little less morbid. Frisk likes blatantly happy things. They like them, but they are also suspicious of them.

I close my eyes when they find the one thing I don’t want to explain. Because they can see. They can see me and Asriel with Toriel and Asgore during what was probably the only happy period of my life (and I threw that away, for what? Because I couldn’t live with myself and my humanity?)

“*It’s a family photograph. Everyone is smiling.”

I wish I could say I’m surprised that Asgore hasn’t changed anything, but I’m not great at lying to myself. If I had been able to lie to myself, maybe I wouldn’t have fucked up so badly.

He still has the fucking sweater. Between that and the story the monsters are telling Frisk, I can’t dam it up anymore. But I do it quietly. Asriel always cried loudly and often immediately sought comfort from whoever was around him. He always was a crybaby.

“*Despite everything, it’s still you,” I say.

This time, Frisk doesn’t look so disappointed by what they see in the mirror.

 

* * *

 

Neither of us is surprised to see Sans.

For once, he doesn’t seem so frightening.

When he explains EXP means execution points and LOVE means level of violence, Frisk inhales sharply. Oops. Another thing I could have and should have told them.

Sans mysteriously vanishes. Frisk makes the mistake of wandering into the basement.

 _Chara?_ they ask quietly. _Where...?_

I know, even though I have no way of knowing. I’m buried where you Fell, Frisk. Under the flowers that kept you from getting hurt.

_So... those weren’t there when you came here?_

No. I busted up my arm and I felt like one big bruise. I was lucky Asriel heard me.

_I can tell you really miss him._

That almost gets me again. I do. Hey, Frisk?

_What, Chara?_

I know our... situation isn’t exactly ideal. But I’m glad I’m with you.

There is a pause. It’s too long and I know, I know I’m just a parasite to Frisk, they have to deal with me and my memories and how could I expect that I am anything but a burden to them and—

They send a warm, unidentifiable feeling my way. _I don’t think I could have done all this on my own. I’m happy you’re here, too._

 

* * *

 

I scream when Flowey kills Asgore and absorbs the human SOULs. Frisk is distraught, too, but they aren’t as shocked as me. Oh. This probably usually happens, they just remembered it a little better than me this time.

We black out. Or something. You might know better than us.

Then.

Then Flowey says, “Howdy! I’m...”

...

I don’t hear the rest.

How did I miss that? Back in the Ruins, he greeted us the exact same way. Howdy.

...

I know. And I’m horrified.

 

* * *

 

Now that I know, what do I call him?

He looks beat up. Some of his petals are frayed. Frisk spares him, naturally.

He glances at Frisk. “What are you doing?” he asks. “Do you really think I’ve learned anything from this? No.”

He refuses to end the encounter even though he is incapable of FIGHTing back. Frisk frowns and spares him again.

“Sparing me won’t change anything. Killing me is the only way to end this.”

Frisk frowns harder. I shake my head. He should know better. Telling a determined SOUL they can’t do something is a surefire way to elicit an attempt to do that thing.

“If you let me live...” Asr – Flowey straightens himself up, looks right at us. “I’ll come back.”

That... that isn’t Asriel’s smile. That smile is cruel, malicious, borderline insane. That’s one of _my_ smiles.

“I’ll kill you,” Flowey continues.

This does not stop Frisk.

“I’ll kill everyone.”

Frisk stands their ground, even though I can tell they are dying to ask me why I freaked out earlier. They know Flowey requires their full attention right now.

“I’ll kill everyone you love.”

Frisk calls his bluff. Flowey’s twisted smirk vanishes. He still won’t let Frisk go.

And Frisk, once again, spares him. A questioning look passes across the flower’s face.

“... Why?” he demands, after Frisk spares him again.

“... Why are you being... so nice to me?”

Frisk actually looks tenderly at Flowey. Spares him again. I’m not sure I could look at him like that and I know who he is. I’m not sure I could look at him like that and I love who he used to be.

He begins to look despondent. “I can’t understand.”

It is only then I fully comprehend what he said earlier. _I’ve been empty for so long..._

He doesn’t have a SOUL.

“I can’t understand!”

It was no wonder I didn’t see it at first. Asriel was one of the kindest, loving, most sensitive people I ever knew. This... this creature is murderous, bitter, apathetic. Nothing like my best friend.

(Best friends forever? Even if he’s like this?)

“I can’t understand!”

Without a SOUL, Asriel cannot feel love or happiness or compassion. Those things make up so much of Asriel that without them, he cannot be Asriel.

“I just can’t understand...” Flowey wails, and flees.

Instead he is that. Flowey.

 

* * *

 

It took some time, research, and thinking to come up with a cohesive plan.

The catch: I needed someone else.

In theory, killing one of the Dreemurrs and taking their SOUL would work just as well, but I was not even willing to entertain this thought. The first time it struck me, I was working in the garden and I puked almost instantly. That sucked because Asgore fussed over me even though he had been extremely sick because of _me_ not even a month ago. He was functioning now, but he was still regaining his strength.

Three weeks ago, when Asgore was no longer ill but still very weak, I had punched out the mirror in the hallway. Toriel had spent ten minutes digging shards out of my knuckles and healing me. She had assured me that it wasn’t my fault that the buttercups had made their way into the pie even after I told her I had made the mistake reading the recipe. She had said it was an accident and I did not need to punish myself for it.

She didn’t question why I had hurt myself with a mirror.

Things had shifted between Asriel and me. He had gotten his hands on an old video camera and insisted on recording everything. He treaded nervously around me after the buttercup incident, but after I punched out the mirror he was at my side, calming me, loving me even though I didn’t deserve it. He knew, unlike his mother, why I had chosen the mirror, and he tried to soothe the demons raging in my head.

He was so good at it that I almost abandoned my plan. Almost.

I hesitated, though, because it was clear that Asriel was the one I needed. The only one who would listen to me, who would help me go through with it. I was certain neither of his parents would do it.

In the meantime, I had to keep up pretenses. Other than my idea and my determination to go through with it, life went back to normal. Even my relationship with Asriel was as close to normal as it could get, even though I knew any relationship I was in was inherently flawed.

I told him about it months after we had accidentally poisoned his father. He paid attention to my vague outline. “But,” he said, and suddenly looked horrified, “you’d have to die for me to absorb your soul.”

I had practiced this in my head. “My body would die,” I said reassuringly. “I would live on in you.”

I was unsure of this. But after it was all over, if I just faded away, I would be okay with that. As long as monsters went free and they were safe from the humans. Because for monsters to be truly safe from humans, all humans would have to die.

Asriel still looked uncertain. “But those other six souls,” he continued. “We – we would have to kill six humans for them.”

“Only six, though.” I did not mean that. Not one bit. “Azzy, you’re going to be king someday. You have to think about what’s best for your people. The humans were the ones who trapped all of you down here in the first place. Six lives for the freedom of all monsters? It’s the least those assholes can do.”

He bit his lip. “I don’t... we’d have to _kill_ , Chara. I—”

“What if they deserved it?”

“Wh-what?”

“What if they were horrible and the one good thing they did with their lives was die so we could use their SOULs to break the barrier?”

His eyes were wide. “Chara...”

Shit. He needed more. I was going to have to say it. “Azzy. There’s a legend about this mountain. Travelers who climb Mount Ebott are said to disappear. I came here to die.”

He stopped protesting. “It was – I wanted to die when I came here because... nothing could be worse. Than what was happening. I came from a village close to the base of the mountain, Azzy, and the ones who hurt me – they were – the day I came here, I decided I would rather die than get hurt again. I couldn’t take it anymore. The ones who hurt me – we’ll kill them. Take their SOULs, before they can hurt anyone else. We’d be doing two things right by killing them.”

He put a hand to his mouth to muffle a sob. His other fist clenched by his thigh. I took that hand, smoothed it out, and held it.

He shook his head, furiously wiping away tears. “I’m in,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ll help you. I trust you. I love you. Tell... tell me more.”

 

* * *

 

Something happens, something I have the feeling only you could explain. There is a LOAD, and then we are at the barrier and Asgore is alive.

Frisk tells him they have some business to take care of before the FIGHT. I can’t see his face, but he sags and some of the tension goes out of his body and I wince at his obvious relief.

On their way back to the MTT Resort, Frisk gets a call from Undyne. In Snowdin, she shoves a letter into Frisk’s hands, proclaiming that Hotland sucks. Asriel would have agreed wholly with that sentiment, he never wanted to play there, said his fur made it too hot—

Ugh. I can’t believe... that _weed_ is Asriel.

Frisk goes to carry out Undyne’s task immediately. _Chara? Are you okay? You kind of... freaked out during the fight with Flowey._

I’m fine, Frisk.

 _You aren’t, but I won’t push._ There is a pause. _Do you... can you tell me what it was like to die?_

I frown. You know that, Frisk. You’ve died plenty of times.

_No, I mean... what it was like when Asriel died. You died at that moment too, didn’t you?_

I flinch. Hard. Asriel’s death is my worst memory, including everything from Before. Nothing can come close to it. Frisk can sense it. _Sorry. I didn’t want to upset you. Just forget I asked, okay?_

No.

Worry. No, not just worry, something close to choking anxiety because they fear I am about to reject them. _I’m really, really sorry, Chara, I didn’t—_

No, I mean... I won’t forget. I’ll tell you about it. Or show you. Later. Just not now, okay?

 _Okay,_ they reply after a moment. Even though we’re in Hotland and the air is practically boiling, they hug themself.

 

* * *

 

Alphys mistakenly identifies Frisk as the letter writer, attempts to shove gifts at them that are obviously met for Undyne, then takes us to the dump after her social anxiety and Frisk’s quietness prove to be sufficient conversation barriers.

Undyne is prowling around, however, and that gets Alphys to fess up. I roll my eyes. At least she knows adults aren’t supposed to date children. Papyrus... well, I’m not sure I can actually fault him for anything, since, according to Sans, Papyrus still gets bedtime stories.

Frisk suggests roleplaying before I can kill that awful idea. Frisk is extra flirty in their role and Alphys gets surprisingly into hers and I am cackling at her impassioned speech when Undyne overhears and butts in.

It ends with Undyne dunking Alphys into a trashcan and Papyrus showing up (AND OH MY GOD HIS OUTFIT HOW MANY HILARIOUS CROP-TOPS CAN A MALE SKELETON POSSIBLY HAVE) and I recall how Undyne picked Frisk up and leapt across her house and flung vegetable guts everywhere and broke several of her belongings and burnt down her own house all in an attempt to make what was obviously going to be inedible spaghetti. Apparently Undyne shows affection by flinging her loved ones about and causing copious amounts of damage to whatever is in her proximity, which is a cool way to show affection.

Frisk tells her that anime is real, which has me laughing for a solid five minutes after everyone else leaves.

 

* * *

 

After an incredibly unsuspicious phone call from Papyrus, we go back to Alphys’s lab.

Frisk seems to have a thing for rooting through trash, but...

They find a note. It says, in strange handwriting, I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

And if Frisk wasn’t feeling apprehensive because of that, they are once the emergency lights go off and the elevator drops us down a great distance, somehow without killing us. Frisk ventures into the true lab.

My stomach sinks more and more every time we come across a lab file. Or maybe that’s Frisk. Or maybe we have the same feelings about this.

This is my legacy, I realize. Asgore ordered this because of what happened to Asriel and me.

Even though the... creatures we find down here are creepy as fuck, Frisk still uses MERCY. I spend quite a bit of time encouraging them, though, because I can sense they need it. Everything about this place feels wrong, and maybe these creatures (not monsters – even though I can recognize parts of monsters in them, which makes it worse) only seem so odd and chilling because of the environment and what is slowly being revealed as Frisk finds more and more entries, but.

But. Seeing these creatures melt and reform on the spot brings up not-memories of Undyne the Undying. We knew about that, we both had a grip on everything we (I, it was me, I know it was) did in another time, but this makes that seem so much realer. The not-memories are almost as clear as Frisk’s guilt, so I reassure and encourage them often.

Until they find the tapes. I go quiet.

...

Damn, to hear his voice again. I wish he didn’t always forget to take the damn lens cap off. I want to see him. _Him_ , not that flower. The flower... isn’t really him. Can’t be him, because Asriel was so full of love and that flower is obviously not.

Near the end, Asriel utters the words _(“I’ll go get the flowers,”)_ and Frisk’s horror crashes over me like a fucking tidal wave.

 _You... you..._ They can’t even form coherent thoughts. _Your illness... that was..._

I am so, so tired of hiding things from Frisk. Yeah, I say. Buttercup poisoning.

_But... why?_

Why do you think, Frisk? Didn’t you try to do the same?

They flinch. Then they sniffle. _But... Asgore and Toriel and Asriel took you in. Weren’t you happy with them?_

I want to seep into Frisk’s body and scratch at their arms until I can feel it and it was one thing, to hurt myself, but I really have to be horrible if I’m thinking about hurting Frisk, even if the goal is my pain. Yes, I admit. I was and I didn’t know how to handle it. Not after...

Frisk sniffles again. _Did it hurt?_

Worse pain I ever had.

They know what I mean when I say that. They wipe their eyes. They aren’t really crying. I feel exposed and oddly ashamed that they found these.

I argue internally for half a minute before just deciding to say it. Look, Frisk. I know you’ve been through a lot of shit.

_Not as much as you._

I can tell they are being honest, and I surprise myself with my own relief. Maybe I’m not so horrible, if I’m relieved Frisk had a better (if still terrible) surface life than me. You’ve been trying and usually succeeding at fixing everyone’s problems and making them happier, I tell them. But as soon as you make a new friend you run away and that doesn’t make _you_ happy.

They are quiet for a while. Then, _That doesn’t really matter._

I thought this might be the case. Frisk. Your happiness _fucking_ matters, alright? Maybe not to you – not yet – but it matters to all the friends you’ve made. It matters to me.

_You too. You can say that to me, but I know you don’t feel that way about yourself. So you should know. You matter to me. You’re my friend._

My instinct is to tell Frisk that we aren’t friends because fuck, look at what I did to my last and only friend, my best friend – but I don’t. Maybe I won’t... maybe I can be a better friend to Frisk than I was to Asriel.

 

* * *

 

When we find the entries on _vessels_ and _determination_ and _what happens when something without a SOUL gains the will to live_

The first golden flower. The one that appeared just before Toriel left. The golden flowers from the surface. When... when I put my body down in the flower bed, seeds must have stuck to it. When Asriel carried me back here

his dust scattered over the garden

I am crying so hard that Frisk has to sit down on one of the beds, hugging themself and rocking back and forth for probably ten or twenty minutes or maybe an hour or two before I calm down enough that we can keep exploring.

And then...

“Chara... Are you there?”

Frisk frowns, confused that this person is addressing me. I feel my blood freeze.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it...? But you’ve done well. Thanks to you, everything has fallen into place.”

His voice is deeper. More mature. But it’s him. I know it’s him. But, wait... isn’t Flowey...?

“Chara... See you soon.”

The elevator doors slam shut. Frisk looks around wildly, then stumbles and falls to the floor as the elevator skyrockets us into the castle.

 

* * *

 

Frisk keeps asking me what’s wrong. I can’t answer them. I can’t even... what did he mean by everything has fallen into place? That can’t be right. What have we done, exactly?

(Why is he mistaking Frisk for me)

Frisk is worried about me and does not want to FIGHT Asgore again, which explains their sudden joy when a fireball blasts him off his feet. It’s Toriel. Shit, that was brutal.

I wince a little when she snarls at him and grimace when he agrees with her. Fuck. Frisk is elated that Toriel is here and that they will not have to FIGHT, but guilty because they are the reason she is here and she’s being fucking COLD to Asgore. Frisk is on their own for this, because I have no clue how to handle Asriel’s parents when they aren’t getting along.

Things quickly become more chaotic when Undyne shows up, which is always the case when Undyne goes anywhere. She is followed by Alphys and Papyrus and Sans. Papyrus exclaims that this is the worst day of his life when Toriel tells a pun and I’m tempted to agree with him because I don’t like how friendly she is being with Sans right now.

But Undyne and Alphys are being even _friendlier_ , a fact made obvious when Mettaton proclaims, “OH MY GOD! WILL YOU TWO JUST SMOOCH ALREADY!? THE AUDIENCE IS DYING FOR SOME ROMANTIC ACTION!!!”

Frisk squeals in the headspace even as I sneer in disgust, but thankfully, Toriel interrupts the smooch before it can happen. Ew.

I am so, so unexpectedly relieved when Toriel points out that Frisk will have to stay here. Part of me always worried that they burnt through the Underground so quickly because they planned on sacrificing themself to free the monsters, especially now that they know that is precisely what I tried to do.

And then the words “A TINY FLOWER HELPED ME,” come out of Papyrus’s mouth and Frisk gasps _seconds_ before a giant vine comes out of _nowhere_ and—

And I am screaming, screaming in Frisk’s head at this flower with all of Asriel’s memories and

“This is all just a GAME,” Flowey declares. “If you leave the Underground satisfied, you’ll ‘win’ the game. If you ‘win,’ you won’t want to ‘play’ with me anymore.”

And maybe he is talking to Frisk (whom he believes is me even though Frisk is so much better than me so much more worthy than me so much less dirty than me), but I know he is talking to you, too.

“Even if it means killing you 1,000,000 times,” Flowey hisses venomously, unfairly trapping Frisk’s SOUL. He laughs cruelly and attacks Frisk repeatedly but all I can think is that’s not Asriel’s laugh it’s not and Asriel was no killer he couldn’t even kill to save his life so _how can this thing be Asriel—_

Frisk’s friends offer protection and encouragement and _more_ monsters show up and I realize that Frisk’s kindness did this, brought all these wonderful people to them and it’s amazing but at the same time it’s bad because—

“ALL OF YOUR SOULS ARE MINE!!!” Flowey roars and then

there is a blinding flash of light and then

there is Asriel, his back to us. He carefully tests his hands. Rolls his shoulders.

“Finally,” he says in his voice. His voice. Not that damn flower’s. “I was so tired of being a flower.”

He turns around. Frisk is shocked. They did not put it together.

“Howdy!” Asriel greets, for a moment seeming so much like his old self that I almost push my way into Frisk’s body so I can run to him. “Chara, are you there? It’s your best friend.”

_(Best friends forever)_

Another flash, and when Frisk can see again, it’s still Asriel – but it’s the Asriel who absorbed my SOUL. The Asriel who turned away from the humans attacking him and returned home to die. He looks like an adult – much taller, horns on his head, wearing robes with the Delta Rune on them. His sclerae are black and there are black markings on his face. His menacing expression makes him nearly unrecognizable, but if I ignore that, he still looks soft and huggable. Still looks like my best friend.

(This is the body Asriel would have grown into if he had lived. I took this away from him.)

Shakily, I inform Frisk, “*It’s the end.”

 

* * *

 

Frisk only mentally nudges me because they want to make sure I’m okay. I keep them informed on reflex.

What do I have to say about my best friend? “*Legendary being made of every SOUL in the underground.”

I am the worst friend. That’s the best I can come up with?

Asriel first attacks with fire. This was what I watched him practice with when he sparred with his parents.

Apparently he decides that isn’t cool enough and the area around us suddenly lights up, colors streaking through Frisk’s vision in no identifiable pattern. Asriel was always the kind of kid who had trouble sitting still. He’d bounce in place often. He is floating now, bobbing up and down and side to side, trailing a rainbow aura behind him.

It’s excess magic. He has to release it somehow. But still, it would be like Asriel to make everything all bright and colorful. That... makes me hope he’s still in there. Somewhere.

Frisk senses my hope and hopes, too. Asriel attacks again, this time with flashing stars that explode and send pointy fragments hurtling towards Frisk’s SOUL.

Between Asriel and the barrier, the magic in the immediate area is so potent I can feel Frisk’s skin tingling with it. The world suddenly feels far realer than it ever did, especially when I was still living in my own body. I look at Asriel and find I know what attack he is preparing, and I quickly inform Frisk (I sorta want to laugh because he’s clearly taking inspiration from the games we played together) and Frisk’s hopes and dreams have a physical impact in the battle. Their optimism somehow shields them, creates items for them to use.

Asriel is talking to us. To _me_ , I realize with a jolt. He thinks Frisk is me. “After I defeat you and gain total control over the timeline... I just want to reset everything,” he says. “All your progress... everyone’s memories. I’ll bring them all back to zero!”

Colored lightning falls from above and Frisk dances around it. I do not recognize that tone. Asriel never yelled or even said anything in an aggressive manner. He was not mad often, but when he was, the waterworks always came on. He always was a crybaby.

“And you know what the best part of all this is?” Asriel drawls. “You’ll DO it.”

He’s right. If there are any flaws Frisk and I share (other than our humanity), it’s the intensity of our determination. Frisk won’t stop until they reach an ending with which we are both happy. I know that.

Asriel attempts to box us in, massive swords in his hands. Overkill, Bro. Total overkill.

Frisk giggles at my thought and gets hit. They stumble, tensing, but that took away fewer HP than I would have expected, for all the power Asriel has.

“*The Absolute GOD of Hyperdeath!” I tell Frisk. Half of me is ecstatic to see Asriel again and I wanna just have fun and play with him, but this isn’t really playing and the other half of me is screaming because Asriel was light and love (not LOVE) and joy and he can’t feel those things anymore and knowing that is more painful than getting slapped or kicked or choked or (shut up shut up shut UP)... or the buttercups and it’s even more painful than that moment I existed after his death, that moment I knew what had happened and I decided that it was not worth living in even the monster world without Asriel and my SOUL shattered—

He shoots something at Frisk that ends in a thin, pulsing beam. He sneers. “Because you want a ‘happy ending.’”

I taught him that. I taught him that being kind only gets you hurt.

“Because you ‘love your friends.’”

No wonder he’s trying to kill Frisk. He thinks Frisk is me and I got him killed. He agreed to help me because he loved me and that got him killed.

 _Chara,_ Frisk says, sounding a little desperate. _I know you’re sad and this is hard for you, but I need your help. I don’t know what we can do, not yet, but we CAN do something. But I need you._

When did their HP get to be so low? But Frisk is right. I have to get it together, have to—

They misstep directly into the path of a star fragment. Their SOUL snaps in half and they reel, gasping.

NO! I shout. Something surges up within me. It feels like fireworks shot through my veins and up the back of my skull to explode behind my eyes, even though I don’t have a body. I’m still yelling FRISK, DON’T YOU DARE GIVE UP THIS IS _NOT_ THE END I WON’T LET THIS BE YOUR END, and I realize that all those times Frisk SAVEd and I pointed out inspiring things to them because they liked that and they liked what I had to say—

They always felt determination, but this is mine. This is MY determination. I lost it when Asriel died, when I understood that I couldn’t live without him, but it is back, and it is mine.

“*But it refused,” I say, and the force of my words and will become true in this place, magic cascading around and over and through us

and the broken halves of Frisk’s SOUL come together

and they are whole and unhurt once more. Asriel barely even notices.

He keeps taunting us. “Because you ‘never give up.’”

You’re DAMN RIGHT we never give up!! I screech at him. I’m vaguely aware that he can’t hear me, but I don’t care. COME ON, Frisk! Let’s DO THIS!

Their determination surges too. _Yeah! I’m with you, Chara!_

Asriel shrugs and grins, shaking his head. “Isn’t that delicious? Your ‘determination.’ The power that let you get this far... It’s gonna be your downfall!”

I grimace a little and Frisk snorts in the headspace. I don’t know who taught him that cringeworthy gloating was the way to go, but it certainly wasn’t ME.

...

I said it wasn’t me, Frisk!

Wait... “*Asriel readies ‘HYPER GONER.’”

Frisk pauses, breathing heavily from all the dodging, but there is a spark in their eyes and SOUL that is probably the result of my Undyne-tier encouragement. _That’s a new one._

“Now, ENOUGH messing around!” Asriel roars. “It’s time to purge this timeline once and for all!”

He vanishes and the lights go dark and then there is a giant horned _skull_ in front of us and HA, he thinks THAT’S scary!? Come on, Flowey was WAY creepier after absorbing the human SOULs!

It opens its mouth and it’s like there’s a black hole inside its maw with all the force it is exerting on Frisk’s SOUL. Frisk does their best to dodge, but they come out of it with a measly 01 HP.

“... even after that attack, you’re still standing in my way...?” Asriel says. He sounds contemplative for a moment, but rapidly drops back into his smug asshole persona. “Wow... You really ARE something special. But don’t get cocky. Up until now, I’ve only been using a fraction of my REAL power! Let’s see what good your DETERMINATION is against THIS!!”

Another flash, another shift in the magic around us. Frisk sinks to whatever we are standing on – it certainly isn’t the floor next to the barrier. I can feel their pain and exhaustion seeping into my mind.

“*Can’t move your body,” I let them know. They can’t. I can’t. We are... we’re...

He is still levitating in front of us. He is lacking legs entirely now but makes up for it with huge, colorful, flashy wings. His teeth are bared.

He attacks. Frisk’s SOUL splits. We both struggle, hard, at the same time, to bring it back together. We just barely manage it.

“I can feel it...” Asriel says. “Every time you die, your grip on this world slips away. Every time you die, your friends forget you a little more. Your life will end here, in a world where no one remembers you...”

I want to hold him, to tell him I’m sorry for everything because it’s all my fault, it always was, and he deserved so much better from me (than me) and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t—

“*The whole world is ending,” I tell Frisk, unable to comprehend much else.

Their DETERMINATION is a waning spark in their SOUL. They struggle again.

“Still, you’re hanging on...? That’s fine. In a few moments, you’ll forget everything, too. That attitude will serve you well in your next life!”

I don’t _want_ to forget. I don’t want to forget Frisk and even though I want to forget everything else I know I don’t deserve to forget because it’s my fault I wasn’t good enough to Asriel and now I’m not good enough to help Frisk—

He is relentless. Frisk won’t stop, but Frisk never stops until they literally _cannot_. I was the same. I _am_ the same.

I can feel them flagging. I’m not – I’m useless. I’ve always been a burden. I destroyed a loving family, condemned Asriel to this existence without love or compassion or hope, this existence lacking the things that make up the most of him, this existence that is worse than death. I was a bad friend. I _am_ a bad friend.

Wait.

I did better, this time. I know I’ve been awful to Frisk. I know that. But this time I helped them. I only yelled at them to FIGHT because I was worried about them and I stopped once I realized that killing someone else would hurt them more than being killed. And that they did not have to do either. I was a decent guide. We even had fun sometimes.

And it’s not like we were totally alone, either.

Frisk struggles sluggishly, desperately. They even try to reach their SAVE file. When they can’t, they almost lose it. They almost give in to hopelessness and despair.

“*But...” I tell them, mentally wrapping them in a hug as best I can. “*Maybe, with what little power you have... You can SAVE something else.”

 

* * *

 

Frisk latches onto this with everything they have. They reach out to their friends, calling for them.

They are lost. Of course they are. Lost in the ways and thoughts they became so accustomed to before they met Frisk.

Frisk changes everyone. Frisk tries to help everyone. Frisk makes everyone around them want to be better.

So after clashing with Undyne and encouraging Alphys and asking Papyrus to cook something and joking with Sans and hugging Asriel’s parents – MY parents – they remember.

And I decide that, even if we fail, I will not forget Frisk. I haven’t had a lot of experience with love of any kind, but I’m pretty sure I love them.

With everyone’s support, Frisk’s determination flares bright again and so does mine.

...

We aren’t done.

“*It seems that there’s still one last person that needs to be saved,” I tell Frisk.

They are confused, but only for a second. Once they realize, I sense their immediate agreement.

They open their mouth to let out their seldom-used voice. “Asriel!”

They approach him. He draws back. “Huh? What are you doing...!?”

Another shift in all the magic blasting around us. Frisk covers their eyes at the brightness. When they can see again, Asriel looks... apprehensive. “Wh... what did you do?” he demands. “What’s this feeling...? What’s happening to me?”

Frisk! I say. Keep calling to him, Frisk!

They do. Asriel pulls back, posture more offensive than defensive now. “No! NO! I don’t need ANYONE!”

He attacks. It’s the worse one yet. Frisk doesn’t even bother dodging, they just throw their arms over their head and wait it out.

When it’s over, they call to him again.

“STOP IT!” he shouts. “Get away from me! Do you hear me!? I’ll tear you apart!”

He attacks again, but he holds back.

He’s losing his will to FIGHT, I tell Frisk. Keep trying.

They do.

Asriel stops looking cornered and just looks sad. “Chara... Do you know why I’m doing this...? Why I keep fighting to keep you around...?”

Fireballs circle Frisk, but none of them come close.

“I’m doing this... Because you’re special, Chara. You’re the only one that understands me. You’re the only one who’s any fun to play with anymore.”

I choke. The sound comes out of Frisk’s mouth, but they are too focused, too determined to cry.

“No... That’s not JUST it. I... I... I’m doing this because I care about you, Chara!” The words sound wrenched from him, like he has to peel them out of his mouth and I’m sobbing in Frisk’s head because it used to be so _easy_ for him to say he loved me. “I care about you more than anybody else! I’m not ready for this to end. I’m not ready for you to leave. I’m not ready to say goodbye to someone like you again...”

Me neither. Me neither. Me neither.

Asriel abruptly starts sobbing hysterically and I know, I KNOW we’ve got him. That’s _him_. That’s my crybaby Asriel, my best friend.

“So, please...” he begs. “STOP doing this... AND JUST LET ME WIN!!!”

He charges and fires an unavoidable, multicolored blast of raw power at Frisk. I brace them and they brace themself and even though we can’t physically hold hands I still feel them reaching for me in the headspace and I welcome them, grabbing onto them and holding them even as the attack strips away their HP.

“STOP IT!!” Asriel shrieks. He puts still more power into it. “STOP IT NOW!!!”

Objectively, Frisk should have died. When it ends, they have the barest sliver of a single HP left. They are hanging on by their – and my – determination alone.

And Asriel floats there, crying quietly. “Chara... I’m so alone, Chara...” That’s him. It’s really him and he looks so brokenhearted and I feel that way too even though demons don’t have hearts. “I’m so afraid, Chara...”

 _Chara,_ Frisk says. _What do you...?_

I'm practically bawling in their head but I shove my feelings of trust at them. I trust them. I trust them to do the right thing here, more than I trust myself. And they will. I know they will.

“Chara...” Asriel chokes out. “I... I...”

Once more, everything goes white.

 

* * *

 

He’s there. He’s there, all poofy white fur and crying into the sleeve of his too-big sweater and bare feet because “I’ve got pads on the bottom of my feet, Chara, see?”

He lifted one foot to show me, lost his balance, and fell onto his ass. He looked startled for a moment, but then I snorted in laughter and he started laughing too.

“I’m so sorry,” he cries. He takes a moment to wipe his face on his sleeve. He sniffles and my heart breaks all over again. Frisk continually reaches for me, comfortingly wrapping around my consciousness.

Asriel lifts his head, but his gaze stays stuck to Frisk’s feet. “I always was a crybaby, wasn’t I, Chara?” He frowns, then looks Frisk in the eye, making an attempt to smile at them. “... I know. You’re not actually Chara, are you? Chara’s been gone for a long time.”

I make a tiny, broken noise. Long ago I would have hated myself for that, would have never done it in front of someone else. But Frisk feels safe. Frisk _is_ safe. And Asriel... that’s his smile. That’s HIS smile, not the horrible, twisted visage of Flowey.

“Um... what...” He suddenly sounds shy. “What IS your name?”

When Frisk replies, their voice cracks, but they still don’t cry.

“That’s... a nice name,” Asriel says. He pauses. “Frisk... I haven’t felt like this for a long time. As a flower, I was soulless. I lacked the power to love other people.”

Frisk whimpers into the headspace, but makes no physical noise. I lean against them. I’m sorry, Frisk. I’m sorry. I knew that and it was something else I should have told you. I’m sorry.

“However, with everyone’s souls inside me...” Asriel continues, “I not only have my own compassion back... But I can feel every other monster’s as well. They all care about each other so much. And... they care about you too, Frisk.”

Frisk is not surprised when Asriel tells them it feels like everyone loves them, but the relief they feel rips me apart. I’ve never... said _I love you_ to anyone other than Asriel and his parents (usually Asriel), but I should start saying it to Frisk. Even if it’s hard. They shouldn’t feel unloved, especially because they’re the best damn human there is.

Asriel’s gaze shifts downward again, smile melting at the edges. “Frisk... I... I understand if you can’t forgive me. I understand if you hate me. I acted so strange and horrible.”

No no no no no, I’m saying, and Frisk, horrified, is thinking _Of course not! I could never—_

Asriel’s only getting started with his self-depreciation, though. “I hurt you. I hurt so many people. Friends, family, bystanders... There’s no excuse for what I’ve done.”

This makes me stop crying. Being SOULless is a perfectly fucking reasonable excuse! There... there IS no better excuse for doing bad things! And that’s _literally_ the only thing that could make someone like Asriel do bad things anyway!!

Frisk agrees vehemently with me, and as soon as Asriel finishes talking, they say, “I forgive you,” in Toriel’s mom-voice that anticipates no argument whatsoever, not if you want your dessert tonight.

Asriel is visibly shocked and that’s as horrible as Frisk’s relief at being told they are loved. “Wh... what? Frisk, come on. You’re... you’re gonna make me cry again.” To emphasize this point, he sniffles. “... besides, even if you do forgive me... I can’t keep these souls inside of me. The least I can do is return them. But first...” Abruptly his expression hardens a little, losing the sadness and gaining something else. That’s determination I’m seeing and I’ve never seen Asriel look like that before. “There’s something I have to do. Right now, I can feel everyone’s hearts beating as one. They’re all burning with the same desire. With everyone’s power... With everyone’s determination... It’s time for monsters... to finally go free.”

He closes his eyes and concentrates. Lifts his arms. _Can he?_ Frisk asks me. _Can he do it?_

Remember what I read to you in Waterfall, I reply. It would take nearly every monster SOUL to equal the power of a single human SOUL. He’s got all the monster SOULs and six human SOULs.

The SOULs become visible for a moment, spiraling around Asriel as he gathers his power. This is appropriate. It is right that Asriel fulfill the prophecy. It is right that it wasn’t me, because... I probably would have fulfilled it in a different way. I _did_. In another time.

There is a thunderous, echoing noise. It sounds like the big sibling of the noise Papyrus made when he dove through Undyne’s window.

“The barrier was destroyed,” I whisper, but it actually comes out of Frisk’s mouth.

The SOULs immediately streak away, the six human SOULs pinpricks of color in the sea of monster SOULs. Asriel carefully turns towards us.

“Frisk...” he says, smiling sadly, “I have to go now. Without the power of everyone’s souls... I can’t keep maintaining this form.”

Horror lances through us. I make a sound of utter despair and it comes out of Frisk’s mouth. Or maybe we both did that and that was Frisk’s noise.

Quieter now, Asriel adds, “In a little while... I’ll turn back into a flower.” He looks at Frisk imploringly. “I’ll stop being ‘myself.’”

No.

“I’ll stop being able to feel love again.”

No. No. No. This is not happening.

“So... Frisk. It’s best if you just forget about me, okay? Just go be with the people who love you.”

This can’t – this can’t be – I can’t, I can’t lose him again, I can’t, I won’t—

Frisk thaws out of their frozen horror and steps forward. Without hesitation, they wrap Asriel in a hug. They are crying now, but silently, tears streaking onto Asriel’s shoulder and onto one of his fluffy ears. Asriel returns the embrace and Frisk rubs his back and they prod me and then I am in their body too, feeling this, needing this. Frisk is shorter than I was, but still taller than Asriel. And now Asriel will never grow up to tower over them (or me) and it’s not fair or right or _anything_ , it’s horrible and this can’t be happening, I can’t get him back only to lose him immediately—

“I don’t want to let go...” Asriel whispers, but releases Frisk nonetheless. Frisk squeezes his shoulders, then takes a step back. They don’t say a word. I can sense the storm inside them and I doubt they could talk without breaking down. I won’t be able to say anything for them, either, because it is the same for me.

“Frisk... You’re...” Asriel takes a deep breath, then raises his gaze and smiles. “You’re going to do a great job, okay? No matter what you do. Everyone will be there for you, okay?”

His smile is genuine. He is about to return to his loveless, joyless hell and he is still able to give Frisk a real smile.

“Well... my time’s running out. Goodbye.”

He begins to walk away. Frisk stares at their feet, shoulders shaking, tears – mine and theirs – flooding down their face.

Asriel pauses. Turns back around. Please, I think, though I don’t know what I’m begging for. Please. Please. Please...

“By the way... Frisk,” Asriel says. “... take care of Mom and Dad for me, okay?”

He and Frisk are the most selfless people I know. For them, it is always about someone else’s happiness.

Everything is fading out again. I welcome it. However temporary, it will numb the pain in my heart.

...

The barrier is broken, but it’s not worth Asriel.

It never was.

 

* * *

 

Frisk wakes up with full HP surrounded by their friends. They all express concern, but give Frisk space, which I appreciate more than they do.

It quickly becomes apparent that no one remembers what happened after Flowey attacked. No one remembers Asriel. His parents – OUR parents – they don’t know.

Frisk is quiet for a little while after this and I have to clamp down on all the screaming bashing around in my head, chiseling out the inside of my skull.

When I’m able to calm down, numbed out, Frisk lingers, staying to talk with everyone. They begin to feel anxiously happy. I can’t process my own emotions, let alone theirs, so I do not pry into why.

Eventually, they encourage Frisk to say goodbye to the rest of their friends, promising that they will wait for them. Frisk wavers, but I give them the last push they need. I say, They will wait for you, Frisk. They love you. I know you doubt it, but they do.

And Frisk does just that. They find Mettaton in Waterfall with Napstablook. They spread the news to those who have not heard it yet. They read texts from Toriel and Sans.

They search for him.

...

We find him in the Ruins, tending to my grave.

 

* * *

 

He tries to get Frisk to leave. Tells them not to worry. Says he’ll care for the flowers. Asks them outright to leave.

He only sniffles again when he says, “I don’t want to break their hearts all over again. It’s better if they never see me.”

I can’t fault him for that one.

Frisk refuses to leave. And then Asriel asks The Question.

He asks, “Why did you come here? Everyone knows the legend, right...?”

And Frisk shrinks in on themself, and the ice around my heart finally cracks. I reach for them and they hold onto me in the headspace, trembling.

Asriel speculates, but doesn’t push. “Or was it... Because you...?” He sneaks a look at Frisk’s face and understands that he should not finish that sentence. “Well. Only you know the answer, don’t you...?” He looks away for a few seconds. Comes back. I want Frisk to touch him. I want to hold him but Frisk is stiff, rigid.

“I know why Chara climbed the mountain.”

I freeze.

“It wasn’t for a very happy reason. Frisk. I’ll be honest with you. Chara hated humanity. Why they did, they never talked about it. But they felt very strongly about that.”

It must seem like that to him. I only told him once and I made it as vague as possible. I told him to manipulate him into helping me. I used his love for me against him.

Frisk isn’t relaxed, but they are beginning to feel less cornered now that they know Asriel isn’t going to press the subject of their ascent and Fall. They take a deep breath, but I know they will start bawling if they try to talk.

Asriel, though... keeps talking. “Frisk... You really ARE different from Chara. In fact, though you have similar, uh, fashion choices... I don’t know why I ever acted like you were the same person. Maybe... The truth is... Chara wasn’t really the greatest person. While, Frisk... You’re the type of friend I wish I always had. So maybe I was kind of projecting a little bit. Let’s be honest. I did some weird stuff as a flower.”

This time, it’s Frisk who is frozen. _Chara?_ they ask tentatively.

I don’t reply. He’s right. Everything he said is something I have thought and know to be true.

I still feel something die inside me, even though I know it’s true.

Asriel fiddles with his hands for a while. “There’s one last thing I feel like I should tell you,” he says, thankfully drawing Frisk’s attention off me. He tells Frisk about how I took control of his body when he absorbed my SOUL. About how I wanted to kill those humans.

He definitely has Frisk’s attention now. I just feel so, so numb.

Asriel continues, speaking softly. “And then, because of me, we... Well, that’s why I ended up a flower. Frisk... This whole time, I’ve blamed myself for that decision. That’s why I adopted that horrific view of the world. ‘Kill or be killed.’ But now... after meeting you... Frisk, I don’t regret that decision anymore.” His voice is stronger now. “I did the right thing. If I killed those humans... We would have had to wage war against all of humanity. And in the end, everyone went free, right? I still feel kind of sad knowing how long it took... so maybe it wasn’t a perfect decision. But you can’t regret hard choices your whole life, right? Well, not that I have much of a life left.”

Frisk’s chin wobbles, but Asriel does not contemplate this for long. He asks Frisk to remember him like this, even if they see Flowey again in the future. Then he warns Frisk about the surface – not that Frisk needs a warning. “Don’t kill, and don’t be killed, alright? That’s the best you can strive for. Well, see you.”

Frisk frowns. Before Asriel can finishing turning around, they reach out and poke his back.

He looks over his shoulder. “Frisk... Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Frisk freezes when he turns back to the flowers, arm still outstretched.

Asriel remains just out of their reach.

 

* * *

 

They trudge back to New Home as if they are in a trance. They say nothing. I say nothing.

Not until we get out, anyway.

Frisk. When are we going back?

Confusion. _What?_

I know you had to come here so everyone could leave, but when are we going back? We have to find some way to help Asriel.

They don’t reply right away. When they do, they are quiet. _I don’t know if I_ can _help him. I want to, but..._

Something cold trickles down my spine. But what? I ask. We can’t just...

_He asked me to leave. He obviously doesn’t want anyone to see Flowey._

So... you’re just going to _leave_ him there?

_No! Well, yes. For now. I think we should wait until he changes back. Then... then he won’t have to worry about his parents recognizing him and he might change his mind._

I stare blankly at the sunset through Frisk’s eyes. But we can’t leave him there, I protest. You don’t know Asriel like I do. Asriel HATES being alone. I know he’d understand that you had to come here because nobody would leave without you, but now that you’ve done that you can’t _leave_ him.

_I’m not, Chara, I promise. I want to help him, too, but I think we need to wait._

No. No. Flowey’s not... that’s not Asriel. Not my Asriel. I won’t – I can’t—

_Chara, please calm down. I know it’s hard for you, and I’m sorry—_

I mentally shove away from them. I can’t leave him. I can’t. I can’t lose him again. I’d rather die again – for good, this time – than lose him again.

_Chara... please. Let me—_

Let you WHAT, Frisk!? Let you LEAVE HIM!? I won’t. You can’t ask me to do that because I WON’T.

_I know, I agree with you, we just have to wait a little bit—_

No. No waiting, especially if waiting entails interacting with humans. I can’t do it.

I can’t do it.

Frisk is horrified, but they are too late. _Chara, no—_

The world RESETs.

 

* * *

 

It started with a rash on my hands. Then it evolved into a bad stomachache.

Asriel saw my pain and tried to back out. He fiddled with that dumb video camera the whole time. I resorted to outright manipulation. I called him a crybaby, accused him of doubting me. After I made him declare his loyalty, I reassured him by reminding him that we would be strong. We would save everyone.

I couldn’t really move, and we needed a stash of buttercups in here in case I didn’t eat enough earlier (they tasted BAD). Asriel sniffled, but he nodded and said, “I’ll go get the flowers.”

He did. I woke up the next morning in agony.

“Asriel,” I whispered. Louder. Be louder. “Azzy!”

“Wha—?” He shot up.

It was horrible, watching him remember what I had done to myself. I wiped as much pain off my expression as I could before he came to me.

“I need more,” I told him.

He got more. I choked down as much as I could. Asriel stroked my hair, leaned his forehead against mine, and nuzzled my cheek.

When he pulled back he said, “I’ll go tell Mom and Dad you’re sick.”

He sounded miserable. I grabbed his hand before he could walk away, even though it hurt horribly to move at all.

I waited until he looked me in the eye. “You’re being so brave,” I said. I hated that he was miserable and I hated manipulating him, but I did it anyway. “I couldn’t do this without you. We are going to free everyone. When we do, someday you’ll be the king who broke the barrier. You’ll be a hero.”

He came back to me, putting his hands on my face. “And you’ll be with me?” he asked sadly.

“Of course,” I said, though I was reasonably sure that was a lie. I moved my hand (even though it HURT) to clutch the locket around my neck. “Best friends forever?”

He reached up to grab his own. “Best friends forever,” he affirmed, still sad, and left the room.

He would be better off without me, eventually. I was sure. Everyone would be better off. All that other stuff I had said would be true. Asriel would be hailed as a hero. He would have a whole kingdom to worry over someday. He couldn’t keep worrying over me.

It got worse. A LOT worse. I shat and puked blood, even though I literally hadn’t pooped in years thanks to a steady diet of monster food. I was dying inside. The sheer intensity of the pain made that obvious.

Toriel and Asgore were at first puzzled and concerned, then very, very worried. I probably looked terrible. I had always been pale, and when I looked at my hands I could tell my pallor was grey under the buttercup rash.

I ate the rest we had stashed that afternoon while Asriel hovered anxiously over me. I ordered him to get rid of any evidence that we’d had buttercups in the house. My voice was so, so weak.

I slept. I had no idea how long I was out, but when I woke up, I knew it wouldn’t be much longer. I felt _heavy_. The agony was still there, but it seemed... further away. Or maybe I was further away.

Toriel and Asgore lied to me and told me I was going to be okay, even when Asgore lowered his head to rest next to me on the bed and his great shoulders shook with sobs. Between them, Toriel had always been the better liar.

Every moment we had alone I spent reassuring Asriel. He was crying a lot.

The pain was the worst I had ever had, even accounting for what I had been through Before. I was fine with that. I could deal with it. This was pain I had inflicted on myself. This was pain I had chosen. That was important. That was _so_ important.

Eventually, I fell asleep. I dreamt I could hear Asgore and Toriel pleading with me to wake up, to stay determined. Asriel, whispering, doubting, but coming back to freeing everyone together. Shit, he had focused more on us being together through this whole thing than he had breaking the barrier. Breaking the barrier was important. Killing the humans was important. Not me. I was only important as one of the seven SOULs.

Finally, I slept even in my dreams.

 

* * *

 

It’s... not good. After that.

Every time, even if we don’t remember anything, even if I don’t sense your presence, Frisk and I both have this frantic feeling of missing something. Even when Flowey sets off alarm bells in our headspace, neither of us remembers enough to know who he is.

Frisk is sometimes rightfully sore with me, even if we don’t know why. I alternately feel like crying and killing because I have always dealt with sadness by using it as fuel for anger.

We... um. Have a couple (a few? a dozen? a hundred?) less-than-perfect runs. Sans maybe knows. Or suspects. Because the next time he tries to kill us, there is something sharp edging his smiling mouth, something I think might be his version of a scowl or glower. Same words, same attacks, same cheats, but... something else. More hate, almost, but that isn’t quite right.

But...

Despite everything, Frisk is still Frisk. Even when we do a violence, they are always the one who realizes first that there is a better way. And they do it. Again. And again. And again.

I lose count. I suppose I should give myself and you some credit, too, for playing nice, but I doubt I will ever feel as though either of us deserves that.

Frisk is good. That is not to say they cannot be corrupted. I have done that. You have done that.

Asriel says the same things. I agree with him. I agree with everything he says. (Maybe, if Frisk had been there with us both, I wouldn’t have—)

When Frisk silently asks me if I want to take over and talk to Asriel, I disagree so vehemently I end up shouting curses at them in the headspace for fifteen seconds before I realize what I’m doing. I flatly tell them no.

As we keep doing this, Frisk keeps pushing. Nothing they do ever works. Asriel asks them The Question: “Frisk. Why would you ever climb a mountain like that?” and Frisk clams the fuck up just as fast as I used to when the Dreemurrs asked me questions about the surface.

Asriel recognizes the body language and doesn’t push. Frisk can barely talk to him at all with the way they are choking back tears the entire conversation. I do not know whether they are mine or Frisk’s. Maybe both. Maybe that’s why it is so hard to get even a single word out.

It doesn’t really matter. Frisk said all they needed to with that hug.

We still cannot change anything. Asriel ends up staying Underground, stuck in the worst kind of hell for him.

We are staring at the sunset once more. Frisk doesn’t even argue when I ask if they will RESET again. All they say is, _When we reach this point, I don’t really feel like it’s in my hands anymore._

I’m sorry, I tell them. I even mean it. But, Frisk, you know I have to ask.

_I’m tired of doing it over and over._

I’m tired too. I’m tired of knowing what you feel every time we get out and I ask you to do it again.

_That... isn’t what I meant. I didn’t mean I feel like I have to do it because I know what it will do to you if I refuse. I meant I feel like I literally have less control over the RESETs when we get out._

That gets my attention. I don’t feel totally in control of every RESET that has followed breaking the barrier. Neither does Frisk.

That leaves you.

 

* * *

 

Things felt different when I woke up, to say the least. No more pain. That was what I first noticed.

I was in the garden, with Asriel. He was sobbing and his emotions pressed _hard_ around me. Holy shit.

He could sense me. _Chara! Are you—?_

I’m here, I replied.

His relief smacked into me, though I could still detect huge amounts of grief and disbelief and regret and _shit_ , I needed to get away from that. That was too much.

I noticed he was bigger when I saw my body in his arms. Fuck, I looked like hell. There was still dried blood around my lips. I shoved his emotions away from me and opted for his senses instead so I could get a feel for his body and being in it. There was shouting behind us – his parents?

He sniffled and went to put my body down. No, I told him, and the movement stopped. It comes with us.

_B-but I want you to be safe—_

Impatient, I tried to make him stand. He did. _Chara?_ he asked, alarmed. _Did you do that?_

I did. We moved towards the barrier. I had a hold on Asriel’s power – damn, the _power_ – and with how natural it felt to manipulate his magic, I was reasonably certain I’d catch onto attacking quickly. Toriel and Asgore were approaching. I could hear them both calling for Asriel, panicked and dismayed.

_Chara?_

When I killed those humans, I wanted them to see me, my body. They would remember me and know why they were being punished.

Kill or be killed. It was my turn to kill.

Asriel’s trepidation faded into slight apprehension and burning curiosity as we approached the barrier. We slipped through just as his parents reached the garden.

 

* * *

 

This time, Frisk and I get bits and pieces. By the time we reach Snowdin, we know we can die and we know we’ve done this before and I know about you.

You... allow Frisk to do whatever they want. You’re less influential. Sometimes I wonder whether you are there at all.

It’s still... stressful, to start off. When we wake up I snarl at Frisk to FIGHT because I’m pissed and... I’m worried about them, but I don’t realize this until later. When we make it out of the Ruins, they say, _I’ve come this far without hurting anyone. I should be able to make it to the end without hurting anyone._

And I begrudgingly agree, secretly relieved that they didn’t hurt Toriel, and snark in Frisk’s head about our environment instead. They have always been vague about what comes after reaching the castle. That’s why I worry they are heading to Asgore to die half our runs.

We retain surprisingly little, but we know it is the same. This makes it possible for Frisk to have fun with it, though they are so annoyingly good I’d bet they would have fun doing it again and again even if they remembered every little detail.

They still despair when Flowey ambushes Asgore. I still die inside when I realize Flowey is Asriel. Frisk still cries like a baby when they see the tapes. Asriel still FIGHTs us between his laughably dorky monologuing. I still feel shared DETERMINATION blast through Frisk’s very SOUL when we both refuse to die. I SAVE them so they can SAVE Asriel and everyone else.

Asriel still refuses to come with us. He says the same things. But this time

this time I see something in his eyes, across his face

and I know he knows about you too.

For the first time I understand why he has to stay. He has to talk to you.

...

I tried genocide and threats and inconveniencing you. Asriel will probably ask you nicely not to RESET. He’ll plead with you. Beg you, if he has to.

I didn’t listen to him. You know what happened to me. To us.

Please listen to him.

 

* * *

 

Frisk is already experiencing anticipatory sadness when we make it out. They stare at the sunset like they expect to be ripped away from it at any moment.

I... honestly don’t believe that will be a problem anymore. I know why Asriel had to stay behind.

Hey, I say. Frisk?

_Yeah, Chara?_

They sound so depressed. I think it’s going to be okay now, I tell them. I think we’re getting out for good this time.

_Maybe you said that before._

I consider this. I don’t have the not-memories of Frisk actually going to explain the situation to whatever human or humans they run into, but that does not mean it hasn’t happened. Neither of us ever remembered Flowey was Asriel until we fought him for real.

I doubt it, Frisk, I reply. I was always too busy begging you to go back to Asriel and make him come with us. Or to RESET and try again to save him.

_Even if there isn’t another RESET, it’s not over. This could still end so badly._

I know. That’s... just what you have to expect with humans.

I feel a flare of determination from them. That’s better. That’s more familiar. _I’m going to do my best to make sure the humans understand. I won’t let what happened to you and Asriel happen again._

There it is. And I... want to share this with Frisk. I want to know more of them and I want them to know more of me.

Frisk, I say. Frisk. Do you... know why I killed myself?

A pause. _Your past wouldn’t let you go._

Their answer is quiet, their head-voice small. Well, yes, I admit. That was part of it. I suppose there were a lot of reasons. But that wasn’t the biggest one. I didn’t know how to be happy or normal and I wanted to free the monsters. I wanted... to kill the humans. But...

There is a lump in my nonexistent throat. My pulse behind Frisk’s half-closed eyes. Frisk takes their left hand in their right and holds it. They wait, patient. They are brave and kind and perseverant, too, and they value justice and integrity. Determination is their dominant trait, but they really are the best damn human I’ve ever met.

So I tell them, I was so scared of growing up. I thought that if I let myself become a human adult, I would – I would... when I decided I wanted something, I would take it and use it and – and _hurt_ it until I was done and leave it to clean up the bloody mess afterward – for no other reason than I could. Because I’d be older and bigger and stronger. Just... just because I could.

As Sans so succinctly pointed out, I killed everyone just because I could. A more accurate statement is I killed everyone because I was used to being on the receiving end of pain and dishing it out for once—

No. I decided to be better this time. I tried to be nice.

It’s sad that me being nice means me not slaughtering every creature I can find.

Asriel would tell me that I’m trying and that’s what is actually important. Baby steps.

 _Chara,_ Frisk says mournfully. _I’m so—_

Don’t you dare, I interrupt, ignoring the phantom pressure on my wrists. Don’t you dare apologize for my mistakes. And I... I’m ready to show you my greatest one, Frisk. If you’re ready.

I have to check because throwing them into that without their permission would be – no. I won’t do that.

But I feel their agreement almost immediately. So I figuratively inhale, and I remember. This time, I let Frisk see.

 

* * *

 

Asriel had never seen the night sky before, the blanket of stars stretching from one end of the world to the other.

 _Gosh, it’s so beautiful,_ he said, totally awestruck. _And it’s so_ big. _So open. How do you choose where to go, when you could go in whatever direction you want?_

It was too late for that now. We were flying – literally flying. Asriel’s feet skimmed the tree tops.

For a moment, I felt a stab of... something. It wasn’t hate. I could never hate Asriel. But here he was, grown-up and adult. He could – I could – this body could snap my corpse in half.

I kind of wanted to, but the humans had to see me. First.

We set down just outside the village and walked in. I saw the bed of flowers. My former neighbors had had flowers like these. I’d hidden in them often, when it was warm enough to hide outside. And sometimes when it wasn’t.

I set my body down and I sensed Asriel reaching for me, wanting to comfort me. Could he tell what I was feeling?

A scream rang out. Then another, and another, and I was briefly confused – there were no echo flowers here.

But there were humans. Our head shot up and I look around at them, startled. They were cowering from us. Saying things like—

 _Chara?_ Asriel asked. He was scared. _Do you see the ones who...?_

White-hot rage consumed me. They thought Asriel had killed me!? THEY were the ones who had killed me. And now they would SUFFER for it.

I stood, leaving my corpse in the flowers, gathering heat in my palms. Asriel’s palms. I was surprised at how easy it was.

This place would BURN and—

 _Chara, no!_ Asriel was horrified. _Just six, you said! Just six bad people, so they can’t hurt anyone else!_

No. All of them. Every last one. Then we would move onto other villages, cities, countries, continents, until the scourge of humanity was wiped off the face of the Earth. Then, and only then, would it be truly safe for the monsters to live on the surface.

Fire in my hands. Asriel’s will slammed into me, but it might as well have been a breeze. _Chara, no, we can’t, please don’t, most of these people are innocent, they’re just scared, we can’t hurt them—_

I still tried. The humans attacked us and hurt us, so of course I tried. Asriel fought me the entire time, his voice a battery of _please stop, Chara, you can’t do this, please don’t do this_ against my very essence and I had said words like that once and they had been ignored and I – I couldn’t – I couldn’t ignore Asriel when he was begging like this, I—

Suddenly, our body stooped down. I was no longer in control.

Asriel, fight back! I snarled. He stumbled back. There was dust flaking off our arms. Please, I said desperately. Defend yourself, we only need six, get the ones hurting us—

I could feel his intent. He was going to run. I was panicking because – I could feel the dust trailing down his body, I could feel his pain and I didn’t know I really didn’t know whether he was going to survive even if we ran right now but he had to he HAD TO—

He reached forward, slipped his arms under my shoulders and knees. No! I screamed at him. Leave it, just leave it it’s a useless corpse Azzy they’re _KILLING US—_

He lifted my body, gently situated my head so it was resting in the crook of his arm. I felt him smile down at my corpse.

He ran, but it was too late.

We were making impressive time for how injured he was, but this did not matter. I was sobbing. You’re dying, I told him. You’re dying.

 _I know,_ he replied. _I’m sorry._

We went back the way we came. By the time we reached the barrier, his body felt much lighter. Still he held my corpse against himself.

He did not cry. I did. I was the crybaby now.

Asgore was in the garden, weeding obsessively. He turned sharply to face us when we entered the room. He only looked shocked for a second before he turned towards the other entrance and bellowed, “He’s back, he’s BACK! TORIEL!”

He ran to us, catching us as Asriel collapsed, big arms going around us. He let out a cry of despair when he felt how little of Asriel there was left.

Then Toriel was there, too. “Asgore! _Asriel_! Asgore, is he—”

Asgore was already sobbing like me. Toriel took my body from Asriel, then reached up a hand to stroke Asriel’s face. It was glowing white with more healing magic than I’d ever seen her use. She whimpered, “No, no, Asriel, try to hold on, please – _please—_ ”

“I didn’t do it,” Asriel told them both, voice slow, trancelike. “I didn’t hurt anyone. I had to take Chara to see the flowers, but the humans were scared. I didn’t hurt anyone. I’m sorry.”

And, to me: _I love you._

Before I could say it back, his body collapsed in on itself, dusting. I had the awareness of a reddish light cast over his ashes, over his anguished parents, the screaming in my head

my consciousness shattered.

 

* * *

 

Tears are trickling down Frisk’s face. No one makes a big deal about it, though Toriel reaches down to rub their shoulder.

Frisk is hesitant, but they can sense I don’t want to discuss this. Not now. Not yet. They wipe my tears off their face with their sleeve.

 _I love you,_ is the first thing they say to me.

And it is so easy to reply, I know. I love you, too, even though I’m an ass to you sometimes.

 _These are good people,_ they tell me. _I’m going to help them. I want to grow up with them._

I think you’re going to be able to do that this time. I really believe the RESETs are over.

_I hope so._

I hide my thoughts from Frisk. You’re going to stop, right? After all, there are plenty of other things for you to do. You could create something. You could draw or write or read something of someone else’s. Hell, you read this. Good job.

Sans made you feel your sins crawling on your back. I wrapped them around your neck and pulled tight until you found them and deleted them. Asriel will probably use them to make you cry. He’ll probably cry first. Or not, if he’s already Flowey.

Please listen to him. Please let Frisk go. And... and if you do, _only_ if you do, thank you. Even with all you’ve done, this would not have been possible without you.

 _Chara,_ Frisk says, and I ignore you. _I’m... going to grow up one day. I’ll be an adult._

I’ll deal with it, I reply. Maybe not well, but I’ll deal with it. It’s like you being human. It isn’t something you can control. I won’t blame you for it.

_That’s not... I mean, if you stay like this, with me, until I die, I’ll be happy with that. I... if you want to leave, to move on, or whatever, that’s fine, it’s your choice, I would never want to trap you with me, but..._

Their head-voice is wavering. It is not fine. They are almost crying just from the thought of me leaving. I take control of their left hand and squeeze their right hand.

_We could also... look for ways to get you a body of your own. If you wanted. We don’t know why you latched onto me, why you’re still around, so it’s not out of the question—_

Yes it is, I say forcefully. It’s totally out of the question. Separating us might kill one or both of us. And I... I don’t want Toriel and Asgore to know about me. I can’t – I hurt them so much, Frisk. I hurt _everyone_ so much.

 _I know,_ they answer quietly. _So did I._

But – but. Okay. I’ll... I’ll think about it. But if you have to think about saving anyone, think about saving Asriel. Please, Frisk. We can’t just leave him down there.

They are silent. I need to reassure them, right now. I’m not saying we should RESET. I don’t want to. He... he has to stay a little longer than everyone else. He has something to do, and I don’t know if he’s done it yet, or when he will do it. But... we’ll give him some time to do it, and then we’ll come back for him. Right?

_I’m not sure what you’re talking about._

I know. Please don’t ask. Not right now. I’ll tell you later.

 _Okay._ I can tell they trust me instantly. _I was never going to just leave him, Chara. All those times we went back to try to find a way... I still want to help him. I can’t... I can’t bear the thought of leaving him there alone._

Relief. Thank you, Frisk, I say honestly. For now, it’s okay. He has something to do. And you have something to do too, don’t you?

Determination wells up in them, bright and warm and just Frisk. _Yeah. I do. Once it’s safe, we will come back for Asriel._ A pause. Then, a little sheepishly, they ask, _No more SAVEs and LOADs and RESETs. I know that. But, um... can you say it for me? One more time?_

I send the feeling of an eye-roll at them, but my smile makes its way onto their face. Alright, Frisk. Just for you.

Knowing that you will foster peace between the humans and monsters... fills you with determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this to try to process my Undertale-induced feelings. I thought I'd throw it up to entertain other emotion-afflicted Undertale fans. I didn't really expect anything else out of it, so thank you for reading, especially to those of you who left comments and kudos.


End file.
